


your best shot (aim for me)

by guangdian



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Blood and Injury, Extramarital Affairs, Former Assassin Xiao Zhan, Former Stripper Yibo, Gang Violence, Gun Violence, Implied Former Sex Worker Yibo, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Praise Kink, Trophy Husband Yibo, happy endings only
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29542059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guangdian/pseuds/guangdian
Summary: Wang Yibo.Xiao Zhan had noticed him briefly at the boss’ side that evening when he was being introduced. Xiao Zhan had heard that the mafia boss kept his husband close, had heard he was quite admired by all within the organization. He was sometimes seen at meetings, always appearing bored with what was going on and never speaking a word, seemingly more interested in playing with the various expensive jewelry that he had on, toying with his earrings or spinning the rings on his fingers.---Wang Yibo, the mafia boss' trophy husband, meets Xiao Zhan, former assassin and now the mafia boss' right-hand man.
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan
Comments: 49
Kudos: 126
Collections: ZSWW/LSFY Week 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this since October and decided to stop sitting on it and finally post it. Fic inspired greatly by [this photoshoot of pretty Yibo in a garden](https://twitter.com/uniq5s/status/1321370687718653953?s=20), where he looks like the perfect trophy husband, as well as [Ilyria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyria/pseuds/Ilyria)'s ideas, and the [mafia trophy husband collage by @Alma_do_Outono](https://twitter.com/Alma_do_Outono/status/1321927164326019073). 
> 
> I can't thank [selfinduced](https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfinduced/pseuds/selfinduced) and [breadbun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breadbun) enough for the moral support and beta reading!

“I am at your command.”

Yibo lazily eyed the man standing in front of him. His gaze followed up the long lean legs to the well-maintained figure in a flattering all black suit, tailored to fit. As the man straightened up from his bow, Yibo noted the sculpted features of the man’s face, the dim lighting of the room casting shadows that emphasized the contour of his cheekbones and the chiseled outline of his jaw. When he had entered the room, his presence had commanded the attention of all those around, his long strides confident. While his demeanor was respectful, the room remained silent, the tension suffocating and expanding as people waited with bated breaths.

“Xiao Zhan,” greeted the man sitting beside Yibo. Du Huan, the feared boss of the region’s reigning mafia, crossed his hands in his lap. His reaction was the one that everyone watched cautiously for. “I have heard much about you. What brings you to us?”

“I have been wandering without reason on my own for a long time and thought it would be better if I offered my services to an organization, to give me some purpose.” Xiao Zhan’s voice was calming, tone measured, unaffected by the nervous energy around him.

“Why should we take you in?” Du Huan had seen too many young upstarts like him, often too rash, hotheaded and driven by their own greed. But Xiao Zhan’s reputation as a rogue assassin had preceded him, and there had been much excitement amongst Du Huan’s henchmen when there were rumours that Xiao Zhan was going to be joining their organization. Some of the men couldn’t help but dart furtive glances at him, while others stared openly. They grappled with the idea that this man, with the slim frame of a model and graceful hands of an artist, was the same man as the cold-blooded killer from the rumours.

“I have nothing to lose.” Xiao Zhan’s gaze was piercing, with eyes that seemed to have seen too much for a lifetime.

Du Huan hummed in interest at this. His eyes narrowed as he appraised the man in front of him. “I believe in actions, not words. My men will show you the way. You’re dismissed.”

Xiao Zhan bowed once more and followed the men who led him out.

 _He won’t last_ , Yibo thought to himself. The man looked far too innocent, probably held a very simplistic view of their world and its complex relations. It was none of Yibo’s concern though, he was just Du Huan’s trophy husband. Yibo had seen many handsome men like Xiao Zhan fall into ruin under the boss’ strict expectations. Yibo expected he would have little to do with this Xiao Zhan.

It came as a surprise then, when Xiao Zhan exceeded everyone’s expectations, quickly moving up the ranks as he demonstrated his prowess, living up to his reputation as a skilled assassin. He was also diplomatic when necessary, quick with his tongue as well as with his knife, able to be decisive at the right moment. Anyone who had witnessed a man fall under Xiao Zhan shuddered to even think of having him as an enemy. He hid his ruthlessness behind a smile, keeping his true thoughts to himself. He followed the boss’ commands faithfully, never straying to fulfill personal greed. Du Huan commended his reliability, and his rapid promotion granted him many jealous looks from the others in the organization. There were several calculated attempts to bring Xiao Zhan down from his position, but none were successful. Try as they might, the others couldn’t find his weakness—they couldn’t distract him with women (or men), nor did he seem particularly lustful for money. The wealth he acquired was smartly invested. They tried to taunt at his ego, but his self confidence was uninjured, and he never seemed bothered. No one was foolish enough to attempt to fight him directly—those who did emerged never to be the same, or more often, vanished mysteriously. Through it all, Xiao Zhan maintained his ever-gracious smile, and soon built his own loyal following.

\--

When he wasn’t working, Xiao Zhan kept mostly to himself, maintaining relations only because it was strategic to do so. He studied the people around Du Huan. In this line of work, one needed to be familiar with who they worked with—what motivated them, what they feared. He learned about the executives around Du Huan, the partnerships that they were responsible for, and who their family members were. He learned that there had recently been unrest in the organization, cops showing up unprecedented at their secret dealings in the last year, and that in fact the boss’ consigliere had been disposed of just shortly before Xiao Zhan joined. Since the man’s death, business had returned to usual for the most part, but tensions still ran high, and people were even more on guard than usual. When Du Huan realized how capable Xiao Zhan was in running the business, he entrusted Xiao Zhan with more rackets, leaving him responsible for more of their various associates. Xiao Zhan picked up on his associates’ nervous habits and kept close tabs on their dealings. When one of them was shortchanging him, he knew.

“Tell me.” Xiao Zhan never raised his voice, his quiet voice luring others into a false sense of security. “Did you think that you could get away with this?”

The man in front of him shifted nervously. He looked at the cash in Xiao Zhan’s hands that had just been counted. “Everything from this week is there.”

Xiao Zhan stared him down from across the table. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You know, I don’t like liars.”

_Thunk._

The man startled, whimpering, as the next thing he knew there was a knife embedded on the table beside his hand. Perilously close to his fingers.

Xiao Zhan looked up from the knife he had just thrown down. “I _really_ don’t like liars.” He removed the impaled knife from the table, casually spinning it around to point at the man. “Do you want to think again?” He paused. “I know you need the money for your mother.”

The man looked furious, but as he felt the cold point of the knife lightly touch his throat, he sputtered and spilled the truth. He had been taking a small chunk of the profits sporadically for his mother’s medical bills, and had been able to get away with it, up until Xiao Zhan took over from the last guy.

Xiao Zhan considered the man in front of him. The man held his breath, waiting, brows furrowed, uncertain of what to expect, unable to move while he had the knife at his throat. The only sound was the soft whirring of the yellowing air conditioner on the wall. He glanced nervously around, but it was just the two of them there, and no one to save him. Who even was this Xiao Zhan? He looked young, and yet here he was, in charge of the mafia’s associates. The associate could only focus on the knife edge that was pressed into his throat while he was telling his story. He gasped as he felt a sharp sting across his neck, Xiao Zhan pushing the knife in just enough to break skin. A sliver of blood rose to the surface. 

Xiao Zhan then leaned back, releasing the man from knifepoint. He smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well if that was the case, why didn’t you just say so from the start?” His expression returned to a cold stare. “I can allow you this once. I can even offer more product. More profit for you, to pay for your mother.” He inspected his knife, frowning at the border of crimson along its edge. He pulled out a black handkerchief to wipe the blade clean of the blood that had tainted it. “If you show me that you’re worthy of handling it.”

The man blinked, perplexed, fingers checking his intact neck, to come away brushed with his own blood. This wasn’t quite the response he had expected. Then, as he slowly realized what Xiao Zhan proposed, he nodded quickly, “Yes, yes, I promise this won’t happen again! You can depend on it.”

Xiao Zhan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think your words count for much right now, do they?”

The man shut his mouth.

“But if this does happen again,” Xiao Zhan continued, his tone casual, “Then your mother won’t have a son to visit her anymore. And your daughter would be very sad I think.”

The man gulped.

Since that confrontation, the associate had yet to try anything foolish again.

So, Xiao Zhan considered himself to be generally quite good at reading a person. Slowly he gathered the fearful respect of the associates under him, and his fellow executives couldn’t help but acknowledge his abilities.

The only one that remained enigmatic was the boss’ husband.

Wang Yibo. Xiao Zhan had noticed him briefly at the boss’ side that evening when he was being introduced. Xiao Zhan had heard that the boss kept his husband close, had heard he was quite admired by all within the organization. He was sometimes seen at meetings, always appearing bored with what was going on and never speaking a word, seemingly more interested in playing with the various expensive jewelry that he had on, toying with his earrings or spinning the rings on his fingers. Yet it was rumoured that he was the only one whom the boss truly trusted. His origins were a mystery. There were whisperings that he used to be a professional dancer, the kind that could be hired privately, but no one dared to speak any further about their boss’ husband’s previous work.

Xiao Zhan figured it would be advantageous to be on Wang Yibo’s good side. He had very few interactions with the man though, as it seemed like Yibo had little interest in the mafia’s affairs, choosing instead to spend his time watching motorcycle races.

Their first conversation occurred more than a year after Xiao Zhan had joined the organization. Xiao Zhan had been wandering around the boss’ garden, mulling over the plans for his next job when he thought he heard a faint _meow_ from his side. He startled—he was pretty sure the boss didn’t own any pets. As he glanced around, sure enough, there was a furry orange tail slinking away amongst the bushes. Was it a stray? He quietly followed after it.

The boss’ garden was expansive, the brainchild of an Italian garden designer, complete with winding paths, hidden archways and bubbling water fountains. Xiao Zhan couldn’t help but admire the details in the design, which had both Italian and Chinese elements throughout. As he chased after the meowing sounds, he found himself on another side of the garden that he had never entered before. The path led him under an archway trimmed out of the tall hedges to an open area, and Xiao Zhan’s eyes widened briefly as he saw before him a large pond filled with lotus leaves. He imagined that this would be quite a beautiful sight when the lotus flowers were in bloom, but it was still too early in the year. Beside the pond was a small pavilion, red pillars in sharp contrast to the greenery around it. Within it was a small table with garden chairs around it, and on one of those chairs sat Wang Yibo.

Yibo had not yet noticed the others’ presence, as he was distracted by the purring cat within his lap. He was stroking its fur. “Where did you run off to, Shuyu?”

Yibo had always sat quietly at the boss’ side, and this was the first time that Xiao Zhan heard his voice. It was pleasant to the ear, with a playful tone as he addressed the cat. Xiao Zhan subconsciously moved closer and watched Yibo as he brought the cat up to his nose. Xiao Zhan had yet to see any hint of warmth on Yibo’s face up until now, and found himself being caught off guard by the tender way that Yibo smiled at the cat, his cheeks rising plumply, the sunlight basking him in a warm glow. As Xiao Zhan watched, he could appreciate where all the admiration for this man had come from. His eyes traced the sharp jawline to where the younger man had a gold hoop earring in his ear. His hair was styled lightly, in such a way that it still looked soft to touch, wisps of hair parting to reveal a high forehead. He had well defined eyebrows, and slightly pouty lips. Xiao Zhan could tell that his outfit was expensive, probably some brand name black textured jacket that he wore over a crisp white t-shirt, tucked into a pair of slim black trousers adorned by a golden brand name belt. He wore the look of a mafia boss’ trophy husband well, Xiao Zhan thought. In this immaculate garden with marble sculptures and more flowers than Xiao Zhan had ever known existed, his eyes were drawn inexplicably to Yibo. The greenery and the serene waters of the lake served only as a backdrop, the scenery of a painting, with Wang Yibo at the centre, like Venus descended in her birth on earth, a precious pearl to be admired.

Xiao Zhan watched the long slender fingers freeze on the cat’s fur, and he realized that he had been caught staring. He looked up to see Yibo staring back at him, eyes widening for a moment before his expression was rearranged into its usual neutral expression.

The two looked at each other, neither of them breaking the silence. Finally the cat decided it no longer wanted to stay in the lap of someone who was not paying attention to it, and jumped off Yibo’s lap to slink back into the hedges.

Xiao Zhan bowed his head politely, looking down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I heard the sound of a cat and followed it here.”

He heard Yibo clear his throat. “It’s fine.”

Xiao Zhan looked up. It didn’t seem like the other disliked his presence, so he ventured further. “I didn’t know the boss kept a pet.”

“It was a stray cat I found a couple of days ago. It didn’t seem to have an owner.”

Yibo had always given off a cool aura, but perhaps there was a softer side to him.

After a pause, Yibo continued, “The boss is allergic though, so he doesn’t know.” His face lit up with a mischievous smile.

Xiao Zhan tilted his head. Was this a secret to be kept between the two of them? “How long do you plan on keeping it a secret?”

“One of my assistants is looking for an owner, so it will only be for a few more days.”

“What if he finds out in the meantime?”

Yibo raised an eyebrow. “Well, none of my attendants will tell him. They listen to me. This place is big, Shuyu has plenty of space to hide. You’re the only other one who knows, so if he finds out…,” he trailed off, almost as if he was taunting Xiao Zhan, daring him to tell.

He may only be the boss’ husband, but Xiao Zhan knew it would not do him any good to get on Yibo’s bad side. And Yibo knew Xiao Zhan knew that. “He won’t hear it from me,” he reassured.

“Good.” Yibo nodded. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, fingers tapping a rhythm on the table. It seemed that Xiao Zhan had been dismissed.

Xiao Zhan nodded courteously once more before turning around to leave. He still had no idea what to make of Wang Yibo. Maybe all he did in a day was watch motorcycle races, tend to stray cats, and sit prettily in a garden.

“I was wrong about you.”

Xiao Zhan paused. He turned around to see Yibo looking at him, eyes open once more. Apparently, he had not finished speaking with him. Xiao Zhan hesitated. “What about me?”

“I thought you would get dropped within a few months,” Yibo answered.

Xiao Zhan’s lips curved into a sly smile. “I can last longer than you might think.”

“Really?” Yibo seemed pleased by that answer. He looked down, fingers tracing the edges of the teacup beside him. “You’ve risen up the ranks quickly. I hear the boss is even thinking of making you his right-hand man.” He paused, then looked back up, gaze turned intense. “I’ve learned not to trust anyone too ambitious in this business. Everyone has something motivating them.”

Xiao Zhan was careful not to let his expression change. Did Yibo know something? Xiao Zhan had always been cautious in everything he did, every word he said, aware that there may always be eyes watching, ears listening.

Yibo stood up and walked down to where Xiao Zhan stood. As Yibo came closer, Xiao Zhan noted that he was taller than the younger one. Xiao Zhan’s whole body was on guard, muscles tensed and ready, uncertain of what Yibo was planning. Yibo stopped just shy of a foot away from Xiao Zhan, bringing the two in closer proximity than they had ever been before.

“Well I guess we both have secrets, don’t we?” Yibo flashed a smile, eyes examining Xiao Zhan’s face. With a smile like that, Xiao Zhan could imagine how a mafia boss might have been won over. Xiao Zhan kept his ground, returning a steady gaze.

Yibo broke their intense eye contact first, and he turned in the direction that the cat had disappeared to, following the cat in its grace. Xiao Zhan watched as he walked away, eyes tracing over his figure. He couldn’t help but notice that there was a faint pink tinge on the tips of the other one’s ears. He smiled to himself, feeling a mix of uneasiness and a thrill rush through him. Perhaps there was more to Wang Yibo than he thought.

Despite whatever dirt Yibo may have had on him, Xiao Zhan soon found himself being promoted to become the boss’ new consigliere. He started to pay more attention to Wang Yibo, whereas previously he had dismissed the other as just being a pretty thing to sit by the boss’ side. He admonished himself for his oversight, he ought to know that it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for the most. 

Yibo did not make any signs of acknowledging their previous encounter when Xiao Zhan ran into him at the boss’ meetings. He continued to lounge at the side silently, at times twiddling absentmindedly with his chain necklace, twirling the diamond ring at the end of it. When the meeting ended, Yibo did not linger and would saunter off, never so much as offering Xiao Zhan a glance.

And yet, when Xiao Zhan remembered the pink blush that he had once seen on the tips of Yibo’s ears, he couldn’t help but think that perhaps Yibo was avoiding his gaze on purpose, rather than out of apathy. Despite his solitary lifestyle at present, Xiao Zhan was no stranger to the way others reacted around him when he entered a room.

Their next encounter was at the shooting range. Xiao Zhan accompanied Du Huan on his regular outing to the range, and for some reason Yibo had decided to come along.

“How rare of you to join us, dear. Didn’t you say the last time you came that it wasn’t really your thing?” Du Huan asked.

Yibo shrugged. “I didn’t really give it a try last time. Plus, I wasn’t really in the mood after watching Rossi lose in his race that day.” His eyebrows furrowed just at the reminder, his lips pursing together in a slight pout.

Du Huan chuckled. “Why do I sometimes feel like you’re married to Rossi and not me?” He placed a kiss on Yibo’s cheek before he showed Yibo over to the benches.

“Have you seen him? He’s the second motorbike racer in _history_ to win more than six Grand Prix World Championships in the Premier Class! A legend.” Yibo was starry-eyed as he spoke about his idol. Maybe he had a thing for older men. He then proceeded to pull out his phone, quickly becoming engrossed in his game.

Du Huan smiled, clearly used to hearing Yibo gush about his idol, and turned back to Xiao Zhan. “Shall we see who’s the best out of this round?”

Xiao Zhan bowed his head humbly. “You’ve bested me each time. But you know I’m always down for a bit of friendly competition.” He smiled and donned his glasses and earmuffs.

As he positioned himself, settling into a comfortable wide stance with one foot angled behind the other, he brought the Glock in front of him, eyes focused on the target in front of him. He fired off, in rapid succession, each shot confidently following the one before it. When he finished, he calmly stepped back and turned towards Du Huan, catching Yibo staring at him from the corner. Yibo looked away.

“Your form is good,” Du Huan complimented. His expression then turned cold, as he faced the shooting targets and fired off his own pistol, lacking any hesitation, with the practice of a man who had aimed his gun at many a target before, and not the inanimate forms they were shooting at presently. 

“Let’s see how it went, shall we?” he asked after exhausting the rounds in his pistol. He always spoke in an even manner, but behind his cool tone was a subtle threat, challenging anyone he spoke with to disagree or disobey.

They compared their targets. Xiao Zhan’s was marked with holes in the nines and tens, with one landing on the X in the centre.

Du Huan nodded approvingly. “Good. But still not quite good enough.” He gestured at his target, mostly clean tens, with more than a few landing on the X. “It’s a good thing we decided not to bet on anything, or you’d be a losing man.”

Xiao Zhan sighed. “I guess I still need to work on my shot.”

“Your knifework is already impressive.” It was not often that Du Huan offered compliments to someone. “Your opponent would have no chance if you had a perfect aim as well.” He paused. “Has there been any more unrest among my men about your promotion?”

“They’ve backed off after the last one.”

Du Huan nodded. “He was always a bit of a thorn in my side. More trouble than he was worth. I’m glad that you dealt with him. You’ll let me know if anything else comes up that you’re not able to deal with?” He reloaded his pistol. “Although you seem to have a handle on things.”

Xiao Zhan bowed his head. “Thank you, sir.”

Du Huan waved a hand. “Enough about past annoyances.” He turned towards Yibo, who had been quietly watching, phone abandoned, fingers playing with the gold bottle pendant on his necklace. “Did you want to try, dear?”

Yibo walked over from where he had been perched, a shy expression on his face. “I’ve never shot before.”

“Well you’re in the company of two experts, darling. Come here, I’ll show you.” Du Huan reached to grab hold of Yibo’s hand, but was interrupted by the buzz of his cellphone. He glanced at the display and his expression turned solemn. “I’ll have to take this. Xiao Zhan can go over the basics with you.” He excused himself to take the call privately.

Xiao Zhan eyed Yibo in his pink silk jacket, adorned with gold necklaces, dangling earrings, and a silver Rolex on his delicate wrist. “Have you ever held a gun before?”

Yibo shook his head. He watched Xiao Zhan with wide eyes.

“There’s a few things you should always remember. Always treat any gun as if it’s loaded. Never point it at anything you’re not willing to destroy. Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready. And always be sure of your target, and what’s behind.”

“Got it.” Yibo nodded. He seemed to be listening attentively. 

Xiao Zhan nodded and showed Yibo the pistol, explained the mechanism behind it, then demonstrated by taking aim at the targets, and fired off a shot, his arm steady at the recoil.

“Your turn.”

Yibo picked up the pistol and practiced taking aim, looking unsure of himself. “How should I stand?” he asked, eyes pleading.

Xiao Zhan moved behind the younger one, placing steady hands on either side of Yibo’s hips, stabilizing them. Xiao Zhan was so close, the hair beside Yibo’s ear fluttered with his breath as he said, “Spread your feet just a bit wider, then bring one leg back like this.”

He placed a gentle pressure on Yibo’s right hip as Yibo brought his foot back, placing it just behind Xiao Zhan’s feet.

“That’s it. Relax your shoulders.” Xiao Zhan’s hands strayed up to adjust Yibo’s arms, then back down to his sides to help Yibo angle his body in the proper position. Yibo’s waist felt slim between his hands, and Xiao Zhan could smell the hair product in Yibo’s hair. Once again, he noticed the heat rushing to the younger one’s ears as he said gently, “You’ve got it. Now, shoot.”

Yibo fired. His stance remained remarkably stable through the shot, Xiao Zhan noted, impressed. “That’s it, just like that,” he encouraged.

As he stepped back to give Yibo more room, he thought he heard a sigh. Yibo seemed to hesitate, before he fired off the remaining rounds.

When they looked at the target after, there was one hole piercing through the X in the centre. The rest were scattered around, at various points throughout. Xiao Zhan looked at Yibo, not hiding the surprise in his face. “Not bad for your first time.”

Yibo shrugged. “Beginner’s luck.” He set the gun down and sauntered back to where he had been resting previously. “I think I’ll stick to my phone.” He pulled out his cell, looking like he had exhausted his interest in shooting with a real gun, and promptly returned to ignoring Xiao Zhan.

Xiao Zhan shook his head, still not knowing what to make of the boss’ pretty husband. He turned his focus back to the targets and shot off a few more rounds, before Du Huan returned and called their attention away to business matters that needed to be addressed.

The shooting range attendant later noted that Xiao Zhan’s second paper target had been shot clean through where the X had been, with not a single bullet landing astray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if there are any tags you think I should add!  
> Disclaimer that I've based the mafia hierarchy very loosely on typical Italian mafias. It just felt odd to have positions being titled with Italian names.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yibo is distracted and horny.

Yibo had, in fact, been keeping track of Xiao Zhan’s movements as he advanced through the hierarchy of their organization. His informants told him about how efficient Xiao Zhan was, making significant contributions to the mafia’s growing wealth, solidifying its expanding territory. Clearly Yibo had underestimated him.

Yibo didn’t like being wrong. He prided himself for his instincts about people—it was why Du Huan liked him so much and had him sit in on important meetings. While Yibo had never completed high school, his education had come in the form of working on the streets, in nightclubs and hidden backrooms. At first Du Huan had just found it amusing, when Yibo would bluntly say that he didn’t like a person because he found them untrustworthy. But when Yibo’s instincts saved Du Huan from an attempted assassin, Du Huan started to keep Yibo around during business meetings more often.

For some reason, when it came to Xiao Zhan, his instincts were off. Yibo’s informants had reported all that they could find on the man. He learned that Xiao Zhan was an orphan, further details on his upbringing still a mystery. There was nothing that could be used as blackmail, or at least nothing that the boss didn't already know about someone who had worked as an elite assassin. Xiao Zhan was a professional, careful not to let any evidence point towards him or whoever employed him in the past. It was all rumour and hearsay, but his efficiency as part of the mafia lived up to his reputation.

In theory, everything about this man, from his previous days as a rogue assassin, to how he was able to charm and kill his way to the top of the organization, should all have been flags that would raise Yibo’s defenses. Yet there was something about Xiao Zhan that piqued Yibo’s curiosity, drawing him in.

Maybe it was in the ways that Xiao Zhan seemed to differ from other members of the mafia. He really didn’t seem to be interested in the same selfish gains as the other members. Yibo casually made note of the different charities Xiao Zhan made anonymous donations to with his own personal acquired wealth—natural disaster relief, orphanages, wildlife sanctuaries. The man was a saint. A saint that also killed for a living.

He also wasn’t trying to brownnose his way to the top, earning his position through sheer effort and skill, his strategy and intelligence winning him the boss’ recognition. That was something Yibo respected. Sometimes the boss would ask Yibo to join him when he visited one of the many nightclubs owned by the mafia. As the boss' right-hand man, Xiao Zhan soon became a constant presence as well. Under the darkness of the club, it was easier for Yibo to observe him. Yibo noticed he would never drink more than one drink the whole evening. There were a few times when Xiao Zhan would catch Yibo looking, to which he would raise an eyebrow, and Yibo would turn away, conscious of the boss' arm around his own shoulder.

Okay, he was also really fucking hot. Yibo had, on more than one occasion, caught himself staring at the bulge of the man’s suit around his biceps, the angle of his jawline, the prominent vein on his neck. At some point during their meetings with the henchmen, Yibo realized that he would get distracted thinking about licking a stripe along that vein, kissing along the sharp contour of that jaw, or having those strong arms pin him down in the chair where he sat currently, desperately trying to fight off arousal while they were in the middle of a meeting.

Finding himself lost in thoughts about the handsome consigliere once again, Yibo shook his head. He had other things to think about at the moment. He tossed his hair backwards as he placed the helmet on his head. He secured it in place and swung his leg easily over the motorcycle. His heartbeat quickened, the thought of the thrill to come exciting him already. Once he placed the helmet on, he was in the zone. It was just him, the bike and the road. The only thoughts he had were of the route ahead of him.

As he zipped past the finish line, he dimly heard the roar of the audience. He paid them no mind, he only had eyes for the time. He sighed—he had been faster in practice runs. He knew there was a turn where he had gone a little wide. Next time he would do better.

His coach came over to enthusiastically pat him on the back. "Second place! An improvement from the last race. Good job! You handled that really well..."

Yibo listened to the pointers the coach gave him, keen to pick up on how he could improve his score. After the race, he met up with an old friend as part of his usual routine, before returning to the mafia residence.

When he returned, his mind was still going over the details of the race. Distracted, he rounded a corner and nearly ran into someone.

The other man had quick reflexes—he stepped aside, hands up. "Pardon me."

Yibo snapped his head up, recognizing the voice. He looked up into those brown eyes, which were looking back at him curiously.

"Xiao Zhan." Yibo hadn't been expecting to bump into anyone else. He was within the boss' personal quarters, and although Xiao Zhan was the boss' right-hand man, it was still unusual for him to visit this part of the manor. "What brings you here?"

"The boss wanted to see me in his room. It's my first time in this part of the place, so I...got lost." Xiao Zhan had a slightly abashed expression while admitting this, bringing a hand up to the back of his head. It was really fucking cute. His voice was soft and enticing.

"Hm." Yibo was skeptical. But he could easily confirm this with the boss later.

Seeing that Yibo made no sign of speaking further, Xiao Zhan gestured at the helmet that was tucked under Yibo's arm. "Is that yours?"

Shit. Yibo didn't usually like people finding out about his hobby. He had discussed this with the boss, and they agreed that it would be better for Yibo to keep a low profile as the mafia boss' husband. It would be too easy for a rival gang to sabotage Yibo at a race, and Yibo didn't want any extra attention either. He had brought the helmet with him this time as he saw that it needed cleaning, which he liked to do himself.

Yibo was about to brush it off, say that it was just something he collected, when Xiao Zhan pointed at the silver object Yibo gripped casually in his hand. The taller man's mouth gaped open in a cute O. "Is that a medal? Do you race?"

There was a look of admiration in Xiao Zhan’s eyes, which for some reason brought a warm and pleasant sensation all over Yibo. He was used to being admired, but this felt different. "I do."

"Wow, Wang Yibo, you're really not what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"I thought you were good looking and all—"

"Is that what you thought?" Yibo smiled teasingly.

Xiao Zhan held his gaze. "I wasn't expecting you to actually ride motorbikes, and race too...shit that's hot."

"Yeah, what else?" Yibo decided he liked hearing compliments from that voice.

"What else...I know there must be more behind those pretty eyes of yours. The boss really trusts you, and he must have good reason to. You must be really good...at whatever you do." Xiao Zhan was leaning closer, so close that Yibo could smell a hint of something warm and woody, whatever scent the other man wore.

Yibo knew that warning bells should have gone off as the distance between them shortened. He silenced them. "What is it you think I do for him?" His eyes flickered to the mole under Xiao Zhan's left lower lip. Yibo felt a warm sensation build within his lower belly. His entire body felt tense, and it wasn't from the race.

Xiao Zhan didn't miss where Yibo's gaze went. Xiao Zhan licked his lips, over where Yibo's eyes were looking. Yibo's pupils were wide in the dim light of the hallway. "What indeed does the mafia boss' husband do?" Xiao Zhan’s voice lowered, now practically leaning over Yibo, hand coming to rest on the wall beside Yibo's head. Somehow they had backed up towards the wall next to them.

Yibo held his breath.

Then Xiao Zhan stepped back, smiling. He nodded towards the medal clutched in Yibo's hand, knuckles white in his tightened grip. "I suppose this is something you want to keep from the others."

“Yes.” They were still staring hungrily at each other.

"I'll keep my lips sealed. Another secret between the two of us." Those lips broke into a grin. "Do you think you could show a lost man back out?"

"Bold of you to ask the boss' husband for a favour." Yibo smoothed a hand through his hair, trying to appear unaffected. His hair was still damp from the quick shower he had taken at the racetrack changerooms earlier. He saw Xiao Zhan's gaze track his movement and felt a glow of satisfaction at the attention. "I guess I can do that for you if you're willing to keep my secret."

Xiao Zhan followed as Yibo led the way. Yibo was extremely conscious of the other's presence behind him. They didn't exchange any further words as Yibo led them closer to the common area. Once Xiao Zhan reached a hallway he was familiar with, the two parted ways. Xiao Zhan nodded courteously, in way of thanks, catching Yibo's eyes once more, lingering for a few seconds before they separated.

When Yibo returned to his suite, he could hear his heart thumping loudly. His entire body felt on edge, a heated energy vibrating throughout. He quickly stripped off his clothes to step into the shower. His post-race shower was usually his way of unwinding from any leftover adrenaline coursing through him. And today he felt particularly tense. As he felt the warm water stream pleasantly over his skin, he thought back to their exchange. Yibo recalled the tone of admiration behind Xiao Zhan’s voice. It wasn't respect out of fear, which he was used to as the mafia boss' husband. And it went beyond the superficial admiration he received from those who just saw him as a pretty accessory. There was the suggestive tone of something more. He found himself reaching down, to the part of his body that was feeling especially tense, to give himself the relief he needed. As he stroked himself to release, he thought of a voice whispering sweet things in his ear, and he came, gasping and thinking of how he wanted more attention from that voice.

Yibo did check with Du Huan after, and indeed Xiao Zhan had been called to the boss' quarters to discuss the rumblings of another takeover, planned by one of the prominent rival gangs. There were ongoing whisperings of a spy amongst them and Du Huan had requested to speak to Xiao Zhan privately. Du Huan discussed openly with Yibo about the suspicions he had of some of his men, and Yibo was reassured that the boss didn’t suspect him. He had been on his best behaviour, appeasing the boss whenever he sought counsel, or pleasure in bed.

In his previous work, there would be times when Yibo needed the money, and he would offer more than just a strip dance routine to his private clients. While he enjoyed it in the moment, he was always left feeling empty afterwards. When the empty feeling became overwhelming, there would always be someone else who sought for him. After he married Du Huan, the older one made love to him often, and they would fuck until the older man came sobbing Yibo's name. Yibo had learned that often it was men in power that wanted to be left begging in the bedroom.

So it wasn't that he had been deprived or anything. And yet. The building desire that he felt as the days passed, whenever he was in the same room as Xiao Zhan, was something he hadn't felt since his adolescence. It was a good thing he was decent at acting, another skill that had been advantageous for him in his position. It took all his focus to maintain his apathetic expression when he sat at Du Huan's side, hairs on the nape of his neck tingling whenever Xiao Zhan spoke up. To onlookers, he looked uninterested as always.

“We caught more men from the Li family trying to sell on our territory,” informed Yixing, one of the mafia executives, naming their rival mafia group.

Xiao Zhan nodded, turning to Du Huan. “Yes, and I’ve heard others tell me the same thing.” Now that he was the boss’ consigliere, he was less involved in any direct confrontations, playing more of an advisory and coordinator role.

Du Huan tapped a finger on his leather armrest, steady and deliberate. With his other hand he took another drag from his cigarette, billowing smoke out from his mouth. “The Li family has been overstepping their boundaries.”

“That’s not the only thing,” Yixing continued. He lowered his voice, and glanced around, cautiously, although there was no one else in the room aside from Du Huan, Xiao Zhan, and Yibo. “I’ve had a few run-ins with their men, and they’ve said enough to make me think that one of ours has defected.”

Yibo looked down at his hands, inspecting his nails and biting them absentmindedly. This information seemed to be consistent with what he had heard from Du Huan. Yixing was a dependable executive, hardworking and dedicated to his work. His track record was good, and Du Huan was less suspicious that he might be the spy.

Xiao Zhan exchanged looks with Du Huan, before continuing, “We’ve had the same thought. There’s a few that the boss and I have in mind, was there anyone that you could think of?”

Yixing nodded. “There are a few that I suspect. The new Li family boss has been quite active with recruitment.”

Xiao Zhan grimaced. “The new Li family boss is arrogant and he’s testing how far he can push us.”

Du Huan shifted forward to grind his cigarette into the ashtray in front him. “We can’t let that continue.” 

“I have a plan.” Xiao Zhan continued to explain what he had in mind, a way to identify the spy in their midst and to send a message to their rival group. As he spoke, Yibo tried very hard not to look at the area of exposed skin where Xiao Zhan’s top buttons were undone, revealing his long neck that led to his sharp collarbones. He could still hear the man’s voice though, its pleasant timbres resonating through Yibo’s body, as Xiao Zhan explained the elaborate plan that he had devised. If Yibo wasn’t already attracted to him physically, he was certainly being drawn to Xiao Zhan’s intelligence. The plan had been carefully thought out, loopholes thought of, and alternative options explored.

Du Huan smiled approvingly. “I leave it to you then.”

Xiao Zhan had a hard, determined look in his eye. He would get the job done.

Whenever Xiao Zhan had this decisive look, eyes set on his target, it stoked a fire in Yibo’s chest, arousing something within him. He longed for those eyes to be looking at him with the same intensity.

Yibo reminded himself that he had a mission to accomplish.

It was hard, so very hard though, when the distraction was so attractive.

On nights when they lounged in the reserved booth of the nightclub, Yibo in his obligatory position beside the boss, there were times when he would let his eyes wander over to the suave consigliere. He watched as Xiao Zhan poured whiskey into the boss’ glass, Yibo’s glass, and lastly his own. Yibo’s eyes followed as Xiao Zhan tipped his head back to let the amber liquor swirl into his lips, watched the way his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. Then Xiao Zhan would smile at the boss, nodding his approval, before the boss picked up his own glass.

At that moment Xiao Zhan’s gaze flickered over to Yibo, who quickly looked down and reached for his own glass. Yibo brought the glass hurriedly to his mouth, a little too eager in getting the liquid into his mouth, as he felt a trickle leak out from the side, dripping out of the corner of his lips. He brushed the side of his mouth with his finger where the liquid had leaked. Feeling mischievous, he then slowly slid the finger into his mouth, sucking around his finger at where it was wet with whiskey. He looked up. Xiao Zhan had been staring. Yibo smirked as it was now Xiao Zhan’s turn to look away. He felt a warm sense of satisfaction as he saw Xiao Zhan adjust his collar, avoiding eye contact.

“Feeling a bit rushed today?” Du Huan asked, not missing Yibo’s little spill.

“Mm.” Yibo turned towards the boss and brought him into a deep kiss, hoping to distract from the way Xiao Zhan had just looked at him. Was Xiao Zhan watching him as he slipped his tongue into the boss’ mouth? He felt a thrill rush through him from the thought of it. By the time he separated from the boss, he noticed Xiao Zhan had left.

“You’re in a good mood tonight,” Du Huan commented, looking pleased. He had not seen the exchange between Yibo and Xiao Zhan. Yibo’s skin prickled at the thought of the secrecy of the exchange that had just happened in the boss’ presence.

He excused himself to go to the washroom.

When he entered, he saw Xiao Zhan was there as well, having just washed his hands. Xiao Zhan looked up, and there was something that flickered in his eyes when he caught sight of Yibo. Yibo stood still, watching as Xiao Zhan walked towards him. Xiao Zhan approached closer, until they were standing in front of each other, less than an arm’s distance between them. Yibo watched as Xiao Zhan reached his hand forward—then around Yibo to where the paper towel dispenser was. Xiao Zhan then slowly reached around Yibo again to throw out the used paper towel, arm barely grazing Yibo’s side, eyes never leaving Yibo’s.

Yibo imagined grabbing hold of Xiao Zhan’s suit, pulling him in until their lips met. He imagined having the warmth of Xiao Zhan’s hand on his lower back, letting Xiao Zhan’s tongue slip in between his lips—and Yibo would part his mouth eagerly, push back with his own tongue to explore the taste of Xiao Zhan. Yibo imagined guiding Xiao Zhan’s hand down to his own erection, showing Xiao Zhan, letting Xiao Zhan know how he liked to be touched. Yibo imagined, Yibo wanted—but Xiao Zhan was still just looking at him, not moving. As Yibo’s mind filled with these thoughts, and as blood rushed down below his belly while he stared into Xiao Zhan’s eyes, the bathroom door swung open, and in walked one of the boss’ henchmen. At this sudden sound, the two started apart, eyes wide, staring at each other in the dimly lit bathroom, the sounds of the nightclub reminding them of where they were. Xiao Zhan looked away and quickly exited the bathroom.

Yibo cursed internally as he tried to calm himself, willing his boner to settle before finally being able to relieve his bladder. He spent the rest of the evening on the dancefloor, needing a way to release pent up energy. When he and the boss had sex later that night, he was particularly impatient. Yet even after the boss came, and Yibo flipped onto his back to stroke himself into climax, it wasn’t until he closed his eyes and thought of Xiao Zhan, and the subtle curve in his lips as he looked at Yibo, that Yibo found the relief that he was looking for, panting as he thought of being pinned down by those deep brown eyes, by those graceful yet cruel hands.

\--

Xiao Zhan knew it would be a bad idea.

Of all the ways he could get killed in this line of work, fucking the mafia boss’ husband was definitely near the top of that list. While he had originally been planning to win Wang Yibo’s favour, to build a connection with the boss’ closest confidante, he had intended to maintain a purely professional relationship. He had worked too hard to maintain his reputation, every action carefully thought out, to throw it away for someone.

Even if that someone came in the form of a beautiful human like Wang Yibo. Even if that beautiful human looked at Xiao Zhan while sucking suggestively, lips plump around his long, slender finger. Even if that beautiful human with beautiful lips was staring up at Xiao Zhan, doe-eyed and so obviously pleading for something more. 

Xiao Zhan blinked hard, refocusing his thoughts to the weights he was lifting. Maintaining his form was essential in this work, and he was grateful for the well-equipped gym within the mafia manor. He pushed through the burn, to distract himself, sweat trickling down his neck. He always sweated so easily whenever he exerted himself.

As he brought the bar back down into the rack, he saw Yibo reflected in the mirror, staring back at him. When Xiao Zhan locked eyes with him through the reflection, Yibo started and turned away.

Xiao Zhan smiled despite himself. Yibo was usually seen looking aloof and as pretty as a picture beside the boss, stylishly dressed and perpetually bored. Yet with Xiao Zhan, there had already been several times now where Yibo had let that immaculate façade slip, revealing the expression of a shy young man. It was really endearing. It also awakened something within Xiao Zhan.

When Xiao Zhan left the gym, he noticed a small group of people, crowded around the entrance to a room at the end of the hallway. He walked over, wondering what the cause for the gathering was.

When the others spotted Xiao Zhan approaching, they beckoned at him. “The Young Master is really into it today.”

Confused, Xiao Zhan stepped into the space they created for him, peering through the glass door to see what they were looking at. There was the muffled sound of a bass beat on the other side of the door. When he peered inside, he saw the graceful figure of Yibo dancing, at times coming down onto the floor, grinding his hips down before coming back up, one smooth movement flowing into the next. He wore a cap on his head, covering his face, seemingly oblivious to the small audience outside. Xiao Zhan knew that Yibo had worked as a dancer, but hadn’t realized just how _good_ he was, thinking that he only danced within what was expected on a nightclub stage. Xiao Zhan watched, mesmerized, for a few moments, before he was jostled away by others who were crowding over to look.

He realized he was still sweaty from his workout, his tank soaked and sticking to his skin. He needed a shower. A cold shower.

\--

While his previous work as a strip dancer had paid him well enough, Yibo had been greatly relieved when he was offered an alternative way of living. His benefactor was an old family acquaintance, whom Yibo had not seen since before his parents passed, and was someone Yibo regarded as a fatherly figure. These days, Yibo had a growing feeling of guilt towards him, when he found that his mind was straying from his assignment.

Yet Yibo found he couldn’t stop his body’s automatic reaction when he was in Xiao Zhan’s presence. Sometimes it felt like it took all his willpower not to jump on Xiao Zhan, wanting to capture the other man’s attention in a way that he could never receive as the boss’ husband. He found himself fantasizing about Xiao Zhan’s hands, how it would feel to have those lithe fingers across his skin, explore inside of him, heating up at the thought of it. He willed himself to focus on other things during the day, and distracted himself with covertly acquiring intel on the movements within the mafia.

At night, on evenings when the boss was out on business, Yibo would give in to the overwhelming want he felt. He thought back to when he had caught a glimpse of Xiao Zhan training, skin glistening with sweat. Xiao Zhan had maintained the physique of an assassin, and despite his long lean figure, he was _toned_ , movements agile. As Yibo watched Xiao Zhan on the bench press, he had imagined what it would be like to have Xiao Zhan lift _him_ in those strong arms. At that point Xiao Zhan had caught Yibo looking at him through the mirror, and Yibo had rushed past to the dance studio next door, to burn off the sudden heat he felt.

He had danced until he was gasping for breath, collapsing on the floor. Yet now under the darkness of his covers on his king-sized bed, he felt the heat rushing back to his ears and to his lower body, as he thought of what it would be like to be trapped with those muscled arms on either side of him, that toned body pressing on top of him. He wanted to kiss those collarbones that had been gleaming with sweat, wanted to leave a mark as a spot of imperfection on that flawless skin. He wanted to tease Xiao Zhan, make him lose his cool. Yibo wanted to taste Xiao Zhan, have the weight of Xiao Zhan’s cock in his mouth. He quickly fumbled for the bottle of lube in the nightstand beside him, squirted it onto his fingers, and tossed the bottle to the side.

He started slow, stroking along the length of his dick, palming his already half-hard erection, thumbing around the slit and pulling lightly at his ball sac. He groaned into the sensation and continued to trail his lube-slick finger down, to trace around the rim of his hole. His voice came out in a soft gasp, his arousal hardening in anticipation, as he continued to tease around his rim. Then, slowly, carefully, he pushed one finger in. At first he met resistance, the ring of muscles tensed around his finger, having been too long since anything had been accepted within. Yibo had refused when the boss had tried before, and the boss was helpless to Yibo’s request.

Yibo pushed the finger in deeper, angling his finger just so and _ah_ —

Slowly, he slid his finger in and out, the pleasurable sensation of it building, his hips automatically rising up and down with the movement. He felt heat rushing to his cock, warmth swelling. The movement became easier as his finger rubbed against the slick warmth inside. He wanted— _needed_ more, and pushed in a second finger, clenching slightly at the entrance. Once he relaxed into the sensation of having two fingers within, he began thrusting, imagining that it was Xiao Zhan’s fingers that were pushing into him, curling and finding their way in deeper, deeper—deeper until he brushed briefly against the smooth sensitive spot within.

He let out a whimper, a jolt of pleasure coursing through him.

His fingers sped up, wanting to feel more, thrusting deep to hit the spot repetitively, his hips trembling, cock leaking. The walls of his canal became pliant around his fingers, and he pushed a third finger in, toes curling from the sensation of the increased width. He thought of riding on top of Xiao Zhan, learning the rhythm of Xiao Zhan with his hips, with Xiao Zhan’s cock inside him, fucking up into him until—with his other hand Yibo wrapped his fingers hastily around his own very hard dick, shuddering into the sensation as he sped up the movement. He thrusted a few times, one hand desperately sliding around his cock, other hand stroking frantically at the pleasurable spot within until soon he was a trembling mess, moaning loudly, come shooting out of his cock, insides pulsing around his fingers.

 _Fuck_.

His whole body was tingling, chest heaving, insides still twitching in the pleasure of the aftershocks. He laid there, soaked in his own sweat and semen, slowly coming down from his high. He couldn’t remember the last time it felt _this_ good. He went to brush some of the sweat-drenched hair out of his face, before realizing it was the hand that was sticky with his own come. He was too content to care. He lingered for a few moments longer in the warm haze after. His body felt heavy as he forced himself to get up to clean himself, before the boss’ return.

Once Yibo experienced the thrill of something, he was addicted, and chased after the feeling again and again. He stroked and fingered himself to orgasm, sometimes multiple times in a day, whenever he found time alone in the bedroom suite. At times, the threat of having to finish before the boss found him added to his sense of urgency. As he laid in bed after, he thought of how it was still not enough. What he really, really wanted was to be _filled_ , and not just anyone would do. He felt the danger behind his temptations, threatening to burn him if he wasn’t careful. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the boss' birthday, and they were celebrating at the city's most prestigious nightclub, located on the rooftop of one of the city’s tallest skyscrapers. It also happened to be under the mafia's control. Champagne flowed easily, and it was the one time of the year when the boss was slightly more forgiving of drunken behaviour.

Yibo looked at himself in the mirror. He had picked a flowy black silken shirt with lace paneling, which he had tucked into his favourite pair of well tailored black trousers. Peeking out from the collars of his shirt was a chunky gold curb chain choker, layered over a thinner long gold chain that held the diamond-encrusted ring. Diamond studs and gold hoops sparkled from his ears. His eyelids glittered with warm rose gold eyeshadow, lined in jet black. He paused, reached over to his facial spray on the counter and leaned his head back to spray the refreshing mist on his face, giving his skin a dewy sheen, his cheeks softer to touch. He picked up his favourite dark blue bottle of cologne and spritzed a few sprays on his wrists and around his neck. As he threw on his camel coat and adjusted his collars, he glanced again at his reflection and was satisfied with what he saw.

When he entered the nightclub, arm linked around the boss’, he was aware of the way people turned to sneak a glance when they walked past. They knew better not to stare at the intimidating mafia boss, and yet found themselves in awe of the gorgeous man on the boss’ arm. He was glowing, club lights reflecting off his jewelry and his flawless skin, highlighting his handsome facial features. But it wasn’t really their attention that he sought.

He followed the boss’ lead as they climbed up the stairs to the reserved lounge area, overlooking the dancefloor below, where the revelries had already hit full swing. There were dancers on platforms, servers helping the private guests to the many champagne towers around the hall, and, in the dark shadows by the walls, men who stood guard throughout. One could also step outside to the rooftop terrace, which held a pool as well as one of the best views of the city. But Yibo had no interest in what was going on there.

When they neared the velvet loveseat that was reserved for the boss and his trophy husband, Yibo felt an unfamiliar fluttering sensation as Xiao Zhan stood up from where he was seated to greet them.

Xiao Zhan had changed his usual all black attire to suit the occasion. He wore instead a flattering navy suit, subtly striped and tailored to fit his body in all the right places. Underneath, he wore a white button up, unbuttoned just enough to reveal a thin silver chain necklace, resting on perfectly sculpted collarbones. Yibo averted his gaze, afraid of what sensations might be stirred up if he were to look into those deadly eyes at this moment, turning instead to offer his coat to one of the servers.

Champagne was passed around and Du Huan was called upon to make a speech. He looked around the circle at his dedicated executives and his dependable consigliere, eyeing each one. “Let’s have some fun tonight folks. To the one behind it all—" he raised a glass. “Xiao Zhan.” 

Xiao Zhan bowed his head at the flattery.

“Xiao Zhan.” Yibo echoed the others. His name felt so pleasant on the tongue. Yibo raised the champagne flute to his lips and tipped his head back to let the warmth of the alcohol distract him from the warmth that had ignited elsewhere in his body.

A few drinks in, and Yibo was restless. He jumped up, unable to sit still.

"Yibo what is it?" Du Huan asked.

Yibo turned to the boss. The DJ had switched to a slower, seductive beat, one that Yibo was familiar with. Aware of Xiao Zhan sitting across from them, Yibo turned to stand in front of the boss, his body recalling old routines. He smirked as the boss' eyes widened, recognizing Yibo's intent.

Yibo slowly settled into the groove of the music, hips tracing smooth circles in the air, letting the music naturally flow through his body in a way that felt good. He turned around to give the boss a view of his back, pelvis circling rhythmically, hands raised to either side of his head. Yibo glanced casually at the man sitting across. Xiao Zhan looked devastated, mouth open. Yibo licked his lips teasingly, before turning around again to face the boss. Soon he was on the floor in front of the boss, running his hands down the boss' lap, his knees spread wide open, ass tilted up to the sky, at times twerking, at times smoothly grinding into the floor. He knew these pants were flattering on him, and that he was offering a perfect view of his perky ass for anyone sitting behind. His hips rocked harder into the air behind him at the thought of it. Then he was crawling up into the boss' lap, knees on either side with pelvis grinding forward, hand on one of the boss' shoulders for support. Dancing always gave Yibo a high, but the thought of being watched by Xiao Zhan made Yibo almost dizzy from the euphoria.

At one point he had turned around again, half lying in the boss' lap, hands reaching behind to grip either side of the boss for support, pelvis thrusting into the air in front of him, knees moving in and out with the motion. He brought one hand down to explore his own chest, down to pull his shirt out from under his belt, bringing the hem up to bite between his teeth, revealing his well toned abs. His fingers trailed their way down his abs, skimming across bare skin, inching slowly closer to his belt as he continued to gyrate his pelvis in smooth motions, abs rippling underneath his fingers.

In this position he now looked at Xiao Zhan through half-lidded eyes. What Yibo wasn’t prepared for was the sudden boner he got as he locked eyes with the other man, who was staring, mesmerized. Yibo held their eye contact, lips curving into a sly smile, his hips continuing to oscillate forward as his pants tightened around his bulge. Yibo wanted to show Xiao Zhan the effect he had on Yibo’s body. Yibo’s hand reached further down to wrap around his crotch and his back arched at the sensation, so sensitive to the touch. Yibo thrust harder into his hand, lost in a heady feeling of lust, his legs opening and closing with each thrust, mouth open and panting.

 _This is all for you._ Yibo caught Xiao Zhan’s gaze again as he palmed his own arousal, licking his lips and letting out a soft needy gasp.

He finished the routine facing the boss, hips grinding forward in the boss’ lap, hands resting on the boss' shoulders, head tilted back in the air, exposing his neck vulnerably. As the song ended, the boss brought him down into a deep kiss, and Yibo hungrily met his lips, needing to find some form of output for the tumultuous feelings of desire burning within him.

\--

Wang Yibo really made things difficult for Xiao Zhan.

Xiao Zhan had excused himself from the lounge, exchanging a silent look of understanding with the boss. Tonight was not just about the boss’ birthday. He allowed himself a brief glance at Yibo, who was now lounging beside the boss after that— _performance._ It may have been the dark lighting of the club, but it looked like Yibo frowned slightly when he saw Xiao Zhan leave. Xiao Zhan turned around, trying not to think too much of it. By now, Xiao Zhan had observed him enough to pick up on the subtle reactions that Yibo usually tried to conceal.

It took great effort for Xiao Zhan to clear his thoughts of Yibo as he focused on his task ahead. Now was not the time for him to be thinking of how the colourful lights had danced off of Yibo’s glowing skin, or how his fingers had traced their way down his sharply defined abs, or how his pants had hugged around his tight ass and stretched around his arousal.

Xiao Zhan slipped into a dark corner away from the crowd, where he met up with one of the mafia associates. The associate whispered in his ear, confirming his suspicions about who the spy was. He dismissed the associate and went to find some of the mafia’s men, to give them the go ahead for the disposal. The mafia was not forgiving towards any betrayal in the organization. The person in question would find himself being led to a discreet location later that evening, never to be heard from again after tonight.

So Xiao Zhan had had business to take care of this evening.

Yet Yibo clearly seemed to be on a mission to distract him. Had they been in any other situation—in other words, not the closest advisor for a fearsome mafia boss, with the husband for that same terrorizing mafia boss, then Xiao Zhan would have given into his desires by now, surrendering himself to this glamorous man who clearly had an interest in him. It had been such a long time since Xiao Zhan had been with anyone, and in a position such as his, it was inevitable that there would be times when a sense of loneliness would overcome him.

In truth, Xiao Zhan had always felt very alone. He had felt that way ever since his parents’ death, from when he had seen his father being brutally murdered. His father had been a humble law-abiding citizen, who had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Xiao Zhan’s mother was never the same after that, and passed away a few years after his father’s death, the doctors stating that it was a condition related to her heart. They had never been close to their extended family, and there was no one that was able to take on the burden of a child who was entering his troublesome adolescent years, or that wanted to associate themselves with the unlucky boy who had his father murdered, and so Xiao Zhan found himself at the orphanage at the age of ten.

In those ensuing years, he had learned to defend himself, by defeating the rowdy teens that ganged up on him, by building walls around his heart to not let emotions get to him.

When he grew up out of his awkward adolescence and into his own skin, there had been a number of times when someone would approach him out of interest. Xiao Zhan would give into the feeling of loneliness and would go out with them, a few casual dates sometimes ending in a motel room. But he always ended things whenever it seemed like things were turning into a serious relationship. A part of him was scared. Scared of losing something important to him again.

Besides, as he settled into his growing reputation as a skilled assassin for hire, he really wasn’t in a position where he could form a meaningful relationship with anyone. He kept his emotions at bay, his work distracting him from the overwhelming loneliness that was always there, lurking in the corner.

So when he met Wang Yibo, he found himself being caught off guard. Not only because of how physically attractive the other one was—and he was the most stunning man Xiao Zhan had ever seen—but also because he recognized something familiar in Yibo’s eyes, something that they seemed to share in common. Perhaps it was that same sense of loneliness, of needing a companion to walk side by side with, someone who would accept him for who he was.

But he was the boss’ husband.

It would be a very bad idea, Xiao Zhan told himself. And yet, he was only human. What was a man to do when a beautiful Wang Yibo was lap dancing in front of you, staring at you, like _you_ were the one that he wanted to ride?

\--

After his little performance, Yibo settled in beside the boss, feeling smug after having seen the look on Xiao Zhan’s face during his dance. Xiao Zhan had avoided making eye contact with Yibo after that. When Xiao Zhan got up to leave, Yibo couldn’t help but feel a bit forlorn. He fought the feeling of disappointment when he followed the boss around the club the rest of the evening, as the boss made his rounds with the guests, who were all affiliated with the mafia and its business in some way. Yibo briefly catalogued who the guests were in his mind, but put little effort into acknowledging them aside from an empty smile, his thoughts elsewhere. He knew that Xiao Zhan was probably dealing with mafia business. Still, he couldn’t help himself from glancing around every now and then, looking for a tall figure amongst the crowd.

While he had experienced a thrill from dancing and from being watched by Xiao Zhan, what Yibo really wanted was to crawl into Xiao Zhan’s lap, to give him the best experience, to make Xiao Zhan feel good and be looked upon by those eyes.

Later in the evening, the boss settled into a game of cards with some of the other senior mafia members. Seeing that the boss was thoroughly enjoying himself, many drinks in by now, Yibo excused himself. He stepped outside to the terrace to get some fresh air.

It was the time of night when people had wandered outside to the terrace, well into their drinks by now and unable to feel the slight chill of the evening. Some had taken off their shoes to dip their dance-worn feet into the pool. String lights strewn around the terrace reflected off the water, creating a soft glow.

Yibo weaved his way through the crowd of people to the edge of the terrace, which opened up to an expansive view of the bustling city below, separated by a tall glass barricade. He leaned against the railing, trying to gather his thoughts. As he turned to look around, he saw none other than Xiao Zhan, gazing back at him from a short distance away, also appearing to seek refuge from the crowd.

The two stared at each other. Yibo tried to ignore the tumultuous sensation he felt in his chest.

He quickly glanced around, but no one seemed to be interested in whoever was hanging around along the outskirts of the terrace. He closed the distance between them with a few steps, until he was right next to him, their elbows just touching along the railing. He looked up at Xiao Zhan, eyes briefly passing over the man's lips.

"Enjoying the view?" Yibo asked, smiling innocently.

"Yes." Xiao Zhan's eyes never left Yibo's.

Yibo licked his lips, momentarily at a loss for words.

"What brings the boss' husband out here? Not finding something to your liking in there?" Xiao Zhan leaned closer, voice crooning in Yibo's ear, sending shivers down his spine.

Yibo couldn't take it anymore. He had had enough drinks in him to subdue the rational part of his mind, and the way Xiao Zhan's eyes were burning into him definitely made him feel some kind of way. "Follow me," Yibo growled, his voice low.

He turned to make his way back into the crowd, trying to walk as casually as he could as he brushed past the groups of dancing people, who were too inebriated to notice the boss' husband, or not important enough to know who he was. He allowed himself only one brief glance backwards, a thrill running through him when he saw Xiao Zhan's tall figure following him from a distance, eyes piercing through the crowd.

Yibo knew where there was a blind spot in the nightclub's surveillance cameras, tucked away in a dark corner around the back of the club. He passed by a few couples who were also seeking privacy on the quieter side of the terrace, too engrossed in each other to notice Yibo.

The seconds felt prolonged as he waited for Xiao Zhan in the corner. Yibo quickly confirmed that the cameras were still in the same position that he remembered. He had made note of them before, never thinking that he would take advantage of this location in this way. He could feel his palms become sweaty, but then again, his entire body felt like it was heating up. He rubbed his hands absentmindedly on his pants. Then Xiao Zhan appeared, and Yibo could barely keep still, aware of the small radius in which they would be hidden.

The next thing he knew, Yibo was pressed up against the wall, Xiao Zhan leaning over him, tongue exploring Yibo's mouth, Yibo's lips parted eagerly for him, and arms wrapped around Xiao Zhan to bring him deeper into the kiss. Xiao Zhan's hands were exploring Yibo's back, his hips, his stiff nipples through the thin silk shirt. Yibo whimpered. He pressed his body up, pressing his hot erection against Xiao Zhan's thigh. He felt a firm heat burning into his hip, delighting as he realized it was Xiao Zhan's hardened arousal. Yibo shifted so that he was grinding into Xiao Zhan's groin. Xiao Zhan let out a low, gutteral groan, which went straight into Yibo's own erection, and Yibo was painfully hard. He thrust up into Xiao Zhan again, panting out of their kiss at the heady sensation. Xiao Zhan's fingers brushed through Yibo's hair, pulling Yibo's head back gently to expose his neck, lips now tracing their way along Yibo's jawline, then down his neck, leaving a wet trail behind as Xiao Zhan licked and pecked at Yibo's sensitive skin. Yibo gasped as he felt Xiao Zhan reach down to palm his erection. He was trembling already, pelvis rolling forward desperately into Xiao Zhan's hand, already so close, after months of imagining this.

Xiao Zhan pulled his hand away, just as Yibo could feel the pleasure threaten to peak. Xiao Zhan looked at Yibo, who looked questioningly back up at him. "I really shouldn't ruin your outfit."

Yibo groaned in disbelief. He wanted to be rational _now?_ "Please. Xiao Zhan." He stuck out his lower lip in a pout.

Xiao Zhan traced a finger along Yibo's swollen lips. "How can anyone resist you." His voice was low and gravelly.

Yibo parted his lips and Xiao Zhan slipped his finger inside, first one, then two. Yibo sucked around his fingers, tongue wrapping around, relishing the taste of Xiao Zhan's fingers in his mouth. Xiao Zhan's other hand was firm on his hip, bracing Yibo against the wall. With his free hands, Yibo fumbled hurriedly at his own belt.

Xiao Zhan's eyes widened slightly. "We shouldn’t."

Yibo groaned around Xiao Zhan's fingers and reached for Xiao Zhan's other hand, guiding him so that their interlaced fingers wrapped around Yibo's dick. He moaned into the sensation.

Xiao Zhan withdrew the fingers that had been playing with Yibo's mouth and Yibo watched hungrily as Xiao Zhan licked his own palm, wetting it with his tongue, mixing with Yibo’s saliva. With this hand, he enveloped Yibo's dick in a warm and slick grasp, fingers tracing over Yibo's head where precum was leaking, spreading it around.

Yibo barely stifled a loud groan. Slowly - too slowly - Xiao Zhan's hand pumped up and down Yibo's length. "Faster, _ge_ ," he pleaded, breathless.

"In a rush, are we?" Xiao Zhan's low voice vibrated through Yibo's already tingling body.

Xiao Zhan's hand sped up and Yibo's mind went blank at the rapidly mounting sensation.

"Like this you mean?" Xiao Zhan's hand slowed again, teasing, leaving Yibo so tantalizingly close to the brink.

Yibo panted, "Yes—please, _ge_. Faster." His dick throbbed wildly in Xiao Zhan's hand, so painfully hard. He fluttered open his eyes to stare back up at Xiao Zhan. _"Gege."_

Something sparked within Xiao Zhan's burning gaze, and his lips curled up as he obliged, strokes quickening again, bringing Yibo even closer to the edge. His arms tightened around Xiao Zhan, relying on the solid wall behind him and the sturdiness of the man in front of him to keep him upright. Yibo had wanted this so badly, and now he was finally receiving Xiao Zhan's full attention, quickly coming apart in Xiao Zhan's hands. It took only a few more rapid strokes from Xiao Zhan before Yibo felt the swiftly building tension rocket towards its peak, forcing out a loud cry from Yibo as he came, hot and messy into Xiao Zhan's hand. His entire body was trembling through his release, his head falling forward to rest on Xiao Zhan's shoulder, his chest heaving as Xiao Zhan stroked him through it.

Shit. It had never felt that good when Yibo was just jerking himself off.

With his clean hand, Xiao Zhan carded his fingers through Yibo's hair. "Shhh."

In Yibo's happy haze, he was only dimly aware of something soft and silky brushing against him, before he realized that Xiao Zhan had a handkerchief in his hand, first cleaning off Yibo, then wiping his own hand. Good grief, was this man always prepared for anything?

As his awareness slowly returned, Yibo looked down and noticed Xiao Zhan's bulge, still ever present. Yibo scrambled down to his knees in front of Xiao Zhan, hands reaching for Xiao Zhan's belt. He looked up pleadingly at Xiao Zhan. He wanted desperately to please Xiao Zhan, to be good for him.

Xiao Zhan's eyebrows were raised. "Yibo?"

"Please let me," Yibo was practically begging, licking at his lips.

"Fuck, Yibo." Xiao Zhan looked so sexy from this angle.

The two fumbled to undo Xiao Zhan's belt, stumbling over each other’s fingers for what felt like too long, before finally, Yibo had Xiao Zhan's engorged and leaking cock in front of him. Yibo knew just what he had to do.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of Xiao Zhan's hardened shaft, rewarding Yibo with a deep groan from Xiao Zhan. Yibo lapped up the leaking fluid, not wanting one drop to go to waste. With his lips, now full and red from all the biting and kissing, he mouthed at the tip, tonguing at the opening. He peeked up, to check how he was doing. Xiao Zhan's lips were slightly parted, panting with eyes closed. Yibo wanted to memorize this look on Xiao Zhan's face, feeling pleased that he was the one eliciting this reaction. Xiao Zhan braced one hand against the wall behind Yibo for support, and with his other hand, he fingered through Yibo's hair, giving Yibo all sorts of pleasant tingly sensations.

Yibo withdrew his lips from Xiao Zhan's tip, a line of saliva trailing behind. He then licked along the entire length of Xiao Zhan, tongue encircling the head before coming down again, with Xiao Zhan's tightening grip in his hair encouraging him on. If anything, Yibo wanted Xiao Zhan to grip even tighter.

Yibo had always been determined, and he was determined to have the taste of Xiao Zhan come in his mouth. He kissed Xiao Zhan's tip lightly, adoringly, before opening his mouth wide to take the full length into his mouth. He sputtered a bit as Xiao Zhan's dick hit deep into the back of his throat, and for a second it felt like he was choked out of breath. Yibo felt a strange thrill run through him at this sensation, relaxed into it, with the feel of Xiao Zhan’s cock hot and heavy on his tongue. As his mouth adjusted around Xiao Zhan's width, he started to bob up and down, sucking and humming in pleasure along the length of Xiao Zhan's cock. Every now and then he would gaze up, delighting in Xiao Zhan's aroused expression. Yibo could feel saliva dripping down the side of his chin, but he ignored it, working diligently to get Xiao Zhan's approval, which Xiao Zhan was generous with.

"Yibo - fuck fuck, Yibo, you're so good. Yibo, you're so good. Fuck no - Yibo, I'm getting close. Yibo, wait, fuck, I don't want to -"

Yibo could feel Xiao Zhan trying to pull him off, but Yibo was insistent. He reached for Xiao Zhan's ass, cheeks feeling plump in Yibo's hands. Yibo squeezed firmly to prevent Xiao Zhan from pulling away, earning another gasp from Xiao Zhan.

"Shit, Yibo, I'm going to-"

Xiao Zhan's grip tightened in Yibo's hair, and Yibo was rewarded with the feeling of hot come shooting into his mouth as Xiao Zhan thrust erratically forward, filling Yibo's mouth completely. He could hear the heavy panting of the man above him as he sucked through it, before slowly pulling off. Staring at Xiao Zhan, Yibo felt great satisfaction when Xiao Zhan's eyes widened as Yibo swallowed, licking his lips voraciously after.

"Wait, Yibo, you didn't have to -" Xiao Zhan's hands cupped the sides of Yibo's face, with a look of concern in his eyes.

Yibo leaned happily into one hand. Xiao Zhan's hands were just the perfect size for Yibo's cheeks to rest within. "Did I do good, Zhan-ge?" He flashed his most charming smile.

"Yibo, you were amazing," Xiao Zhan replied breathlessly. Yibo felt like he was soaring.

Somewhere along the way, Yibo's dick had swelled again.

Xiao Zhan saw this. "Did that make you hard again? Yibo, you really..."

Yibo reached for his own erection, then paused and looked up. "Zhan-ge, can I...?"

Xiao Zhan smirked and Yibo could feel his cock grow even harder. "You were really good today.” He rubbed his thumb against Yibo’s glistening red lips. “Okay. _Come for me._ "

Yibo gave a few quick tugs. Under Xiao Zhan's gaze, it really didn't take much for Yibo to come undone. Soon Yibo reached his second orgasm of the evening, releasing hot ejaculate all over his own hand, panting and flushed as he looked up at Xiao Zhan, who looked pleased with what he saw.

Yibo felt such warm bliss as Xiao Zhan murmured, "Wang Yibo, you really are something."

He didn't want this time to be the last.

Yibo really didn't know how he managed to get through the rest of the evening without giving himself away. Xiao Zhan had cleaned Yibo up, and then the two had parted ways. Yibo went to the bathroom to try to compose himself, which took some time. He found himself breaking into a foolish grin every time he thought of what had just happened.

By the time he returned to the boss' card game, he learned that Xiao Zhan had already excused himself for the evening, having completed the mafia assignment earlier. Yibo only half listened to his bodyguard telling him about how worried he had been when he hadn’t been able to find Yibo. It was probably for the better that Xiao Zhan had left, as Yibo really didn't know how he would be able to hide the chaotic feelings he was experiencing at that moment.

But Yibo had a role to fulfill.

Over the next few days, Yibo would go about his business, trying everything he could to not let himself be distracted. He continued to gather intel from his trusted informants on the mafia business. He also frequented the racetrack more often, partially to steer his thoughts away from Xiao Zhan. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game, and that if he wasn't careful, he would pay for it with his life. The boss was not a forgiving person. But Yibo had accepted this sort of risk a long time ago. While he did have a growing sense of guilt, it was not towards the boss. Yibo hadn't married him out of love.

Try as he might though, it was hard not to think about Xiao Zhan. His informants, who were still digging into the consigliere's past, told Yibo that Xiao Zhan's parents had both passed away when he was young. His mother had passed away in a hospital, while his father's death was more of a mystery with no paper trail. They were ordinary working-class folk, with nothing that seemed to be particularly remarkable. Yibo wondered how Xiao Zhan had ended up in this line of work.

When the boss had his meetings, Yibo would occasionally steal glances over at Xiao Zhan. Xiao Zhan now seemed even more determined to not look at him, not even seeming to acknowledge Yibo's existence. Under most circumstances with anyone else, this would have been Yibo's preference. But this was not most circumstances.

He knew that even that one time had been a huge risk. But it had been so good. And yet—there was still so much _more_ that Yibo wanted. Now not even all the masturbation he did could fully satisfy his needs.

A couple of weeks passed by of Xiao Zhan ignoring Yibo, enough to make Yibo feel a new sort of anxiety that he wasn’t used to feeling. What if Xiao Zhan hadn’t enjoyed it as much as Yibo had? Had Yibo been imagining the admiration in the other one’s eyes? Xiao Zhan was older, more experienced—Yibo wanted to show that he was quick to learn. Yibo didn't like the new sense of insecurity he felt. Surely he hadn't been imagining the chemistry between them. And when it came to technique, Yibo had always been told that his mouth was perfect for taking dick.

Or perhaps, Xiao Zhan regretted his decision. Yibo knew he must have had his own motives for entering the mafia, to rise through the ranks so ambitiously. Maybe not driven by wealth, but certainly there was some reason. Fucking Yibo was probably not part of Xiao Zhan’s plan and maybe Xiao Zhan wanted to play it safe. Hell, Yibo certainly hadn’t planned on being on his knees and blowing someone from within the mafia—he had enough to deal with already. Getting too close with anyone in the mafia could be detrimental for him.

But if anything, getting a taste of something only made Yibo hungrier for more. Whatever Xiao Zhan’s motives were, Yibo wanted to become a part of Xiao Zhan’s agenda. There was something about Xiao Zhan that made Yibo want to be desired in a way that he had never experienced before. He craved Xiao Zhan's attention, wanted Xiao Zhan to be looking at him with the same burning arousal that he had seen once already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few days after I wrote this chapter, Yibo performed VOTF. I think that solidified the idea that we need more stripper Yibo. I mean, he had to tone down his performance from his rehearsal to make it television-friendly. Clearly he needs to be given more sexy choreo.
> 
> [This](https://twitter.com/xiaozhan911005/status/1214874488174608384?s=20) was the look I had in mind for XZ.


	4. Chapter 4

It was only going to be the one time.

Xiao Zhan tried very hard to convince himself of this.

He was extremely aware of how surrounded they were by people who were always watching, people who still had their eyes on Xiao Zhan’s prodigious rise in the association, looking for any potential signs of vulnerability. He could not let Yibo become his vulnerability.

As usual, he relied on his work to distract him. He worked with Yixing and a few other select executives to do another sweep of all the members in their organization, weeding out those who had any significant ties to the defector. He saw to it that the Li family boss woke up one morning to a gory surprise in bed, a reminder that they were not someone to be messed with. He pushed himself harder in his training, willing himself to move faster and hit stronger. It worked for the most part.

Except when Yibo was in the same room. At times Xiao Zhan wanted to pull the younger one aside, tell him how obvious he was being, how anyone who looked at Yibo might be able to read what he was thinking. Or at least, to Xiao Zhan, it was blaringly obvious when Yibo sent him quick furtive glances during their business meetings, which Xiao Zhan caught from the corner of his eye. Surely someone would notice. Or maybe he was just highly attuned to the other one’s expressions.

Yibo made it very hard to be ignored. He would show up at their meetings on some days with nothing but a fine mesh tank underneath his expensive blazer. Other times he wore a belted jumpsuit that highlighted his perfect figure, or a sleek turtleneck with a rhinestone harness layered on top, streaks of red or blue in his hair. Once he showed up in the shortest shorts that Xiao Zhan had ever seen on a man, and it was fair to say that Xiao Zhan’s mind had short-circuited that day. The shorts were an obnoxious _houndstooth_ , with a matching blazer that Yibo wore over an almost sheer white button up. Luckily everyone else had been equally flabbergasted and no one was paying attention to Xiao Zhan’s own mental crisis. Du Huan was also fairly distracted by his very provocative husband, and luckily did not notice the expression that Xiao Zhan might have let slip when Yibo first walked into the room. Yibo had just smirked, basking in the attention as he settled down in his usual velvet armchair, legs relaxing into a comfortable spread, seemingly unaware of the delectable display of skin that this position revealed.

Xiao Zhan cleared his throat. In a deliberately unbothered tone he continued, “We haven’t seen any more of the Li family men on our territory.”

“Mm.” Du Huan’s hand strayed to Yibo’s thighs, running his fingers along the soft expanse of skin. Xiao Zhan resolutely did not look. “Good.”

“But there’s another issue now.” Xiao Zhan rubbed his forehead. “Have you heard about this new bill that’s been proposed? It would affect quite a few of our major imports. It would mean a lot of renegotiation with our supply chains.”

“What do we know about it?”

Xiao Zhan reported the intel that he had been able to gather from their government connections. As the consigliere, he was the main agent responsible for maintaining their careful relationship with the law and the government. It meant knowing who to talk to, and who to bribe. Du Huan had commended Xiao Zhan for his ability to placate the officials with his gentlemanly demeanour and his smooth words, while at the same time acquiring covert information on them in the background.

After listening to what Xiao Zhan had discovered, Du Huan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He reached into his suit jacket to pull out a small, nondescript black notebook. He slowly flipped through it, then settled on a page, smiling.

Du Huan’s black book. A collection of contacts known only to Du Huan, containing details of previous transactions and blackmail material, his insurance for their mafia’s extensive power. He kept it close to him at all times, not allowing anyone else to lay eyes on its contents. It was said that he even slept with it, or that it was kept securely in a place that only Du Huan knew of.

Whenever Du Huan used his black book, he was able to get what he wanted.

“Leave it to me,” he said, stowing away his book, saying no more on the subject.

They concluded their meeting, and just as Xiao Zhan stood up to go, he heard Yibo’s voice, “ _Lao gong—_ ” He couldn’t help but look up to see Yibo leaning against Du Huan’s arm, wide-eyed and lips protruding in a slight pout. “Can I borrow your driver today?” He smiled shyly and Xiao Zhan was extremely grateful that he wasn’t at the receiving end of Yibo’s charms. He had an uneasy feeling that he might be convinced to do some very irrational things because of that smile.

Du Huan patted Yibo’s hand on his arm. “Yibo, dear, what happened to Yanyan?”

“He called last night to say he was sick.”

“And Lele?”

“You know he doesn’t drive.”

Du Huan sighed. “I have somewhere I have to be so I can’t let you use my driver. Do you have to go today?”

“There’s a race that I can’t miss,” Yibo insisted. Xiao Zhan continued to follow the other men out, politely pretending not to listen to this private conversation between the boss and his husband.

“What about Xiao Zhan? Can I borrow him for the day?”

Xiao Zhan froze by the doorway. He cautiously turned around, to see Yibo’s round eyes now looking at him, and Du Huan appearing amused.

“Xiao Zhan has some business to take care of. He’s not here to be your driver, dear.”

Sadness was clearly written all over Yibo’s face as his gaze turned sullenly downward.

“I can drive him.” Xiao Zhan surprised himself as he spoke up.

He avoided looking at Yibo, whose head had shot up to stare at Xiao Zhan again. Du Huan simply chuckled. “Don’t mind my husband.”

Xiao Zhan was known to be cruel—he had stabbed a man before with little second thought, had carved a design on a man’s face without hesitation, and had gunned down everyone in a room until he had been the only one left standing. But he wasn’t completely heartless. He would never directly harm a child, and would try to ensure there were no children around whenever he completed an assignment. If he saw an injured stray cat, then he would tend to it. When he saw the tentative hope on Yibo’s face, he somehow just couldn’t bring himself to withdraw his offer. He tried to shrug off the nagging sense of discomfort he felt at this moment of weakness.

“I can do it,” Xiao Zhan reaffirmed. “I don’t have anything important scheduled for today anyways.”

Yibo very clearly made an effort not to appear too overjoyed at this, but Xiao Zhan could still tell that he was beaming at Xiao Zhan’s offer. Something lurched within Xiao Zhan’s chest. 

Du Huan was likely also not expecting Xiao Zhan to volunteer himself, but he did not appear suspicious or displeased. “Very well then.”

Xiao Zhan recognized that Du Huan’s acceptance was significant, a sign of how much Du Huan trusted him. There were few people that Du Huan would entrust his husband with, aside from his own personal bodyguards. Xiao Zhan knew that it would be unwise to test this hard-earned trust.

He reminded himself of this as Yibo jumped up out of his chair and sauntered over towards Xiao Zhan. He stopped in front of Xiao Zhan, hands in his back pockets and eyes looking down and away. Xiao Zhan willed himself to not stare at those full, soft lips.

“Meet me by the garage in an hour,” Yibo stated, his tone purposefully flat. Then he left the room, a whiff of his cologne trailing behind him.

Xiao Zhan glanced one last time at the boss.

“Make sure no one touches my husband.”

Xiao Zhan nodded, returning Du Huan’s scrutinizing gaze. “I’ll be on my guard.”

It wasn’t a lie. He knew that the person he would have to be the most careful around was Yibo.

\--

Yibo bit his nails, thinking. He was in the solitude of his bedroom, lounging in an armchair with legs dangling over the side, earbuds in and playing his usual pre-race playlist. He usually spent this time before a race reviewing the track in his mind, visualizing himself making the turns, angling into the curve, decelerating and accelerating at just the right timing. 

Except his mind kept straying away from thoughts of the racetrack route.

It had been more than a month since the boss’ birthday. _Weeks_ of Xiao Zhan ignoring Yibo.

Yibo knew this was probably for the better. He needed to stay on the boss’ good side and shuddered to think of what might happen if the boss learned of Yibo’s fantasies about his right-hand man. In the last few weeks, Yibo had made very good use of the various toys that he had acquired from his previous work, taking advantage of when the boss was away on mafia business. But these could only provide temporary distraction.

Eventually, Yibo had decided that the best way to lay his mind to rest would be to confront the man directly. Yibo didn’t like spending time in uncertainty, preferring to face his problems head-on. Xiao Zhan had shown him on enough occasions that he at least had some interest in Yibo, so what was the deal?

It had however proven difficult to get Xiao Zhan on his own while they were at the mafia residence. So Yibo had come up with the plan of having Xiao Zhan accompany him to the racetracks. He had discussed this plan with his bodyguards and close informants, Lele and Yanyan. They were the ones who knew Yibo the best out of everyone in the mafia, and were the only ones that he could trust. Yibo told them that since they were trying to find out more about Xiao Zhan’s past, it made sense to try to speak to the man directly. But there remained the unknown of whether Xiao Zhan would actually agree to go with Yibo, even if Yibo somehow managed to convince Du Huan.

Yibo hadn’t expected that Xiao Zhan would so easily volunteer himself. It gave him hope.

Hope was such a scary thing. It felt as tenuous as the surface of a soap bubble, yet Yibo couldn’t help but chase after it. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for exactly—there was no way he could really expect anything more, given their circumstances. It was dangerous to want for more, on account of multiple reasons. But whenever Xiao Zhan was in the room, he felt a pull, like two stars gravitating towards each other.

Or perhaps that was something that only Yibo felt. He was probably the only one who fell asleep thinking of the other’s voice, replaying their previous interactions, wondering if he had misinterpreted the other’s signals. He couldn’t help but recall how gentle Xiao Zhan had been that evening, just before they parted. Maybe Yibo had just imagined the way Xiao Zhan had looked at him, in the dark of night. But the memory lingered of Xiao Zhan’s fingers tenderly stroking through his hair.

Or was Xiao Zhan like this with everyone he had sex with? Maybe he was just being the gentleman that he was, looking after Yibo like he would with anyone. To him, this was probably just a one-night fling. Truthfully, when Yibo had led him away that evening, Yibo himself had not given any thought to it leading to anything further. Wasn’t he accustomed to having single encounters?

Except this was different. Xiao Zhan was different.

These thoughts encircled his mind as he walked down towards the garage, chewing his lip nervously as he thought about what he would say. Would Xiao Zhan even acknowledge what had happened? Or would he try to pretend that nothing had occurred between the two of them? The likelihood of Xiao Zhan feigning ignorance was actually quite high, especially with Lele’s presence. Yibo prepared himself mentally for this possibility.

Despite these worries, when Yibo spotted the tall figure of Xiao Zhan leaning against the garage wall, waiting—for _him_ , he couldn’t help but quicken his steps.

Xiao Zhan caught sight of him and raised his eyebrows. He really needed to stop doing that, it didn’t help Yibo’s already complicated feelings. “Are you racing in that?” Xiao Zhan asked, his voice sending pleasant tingles to Yibo’s core.

Yibo was still in his houndstooth jacket and shorts combo. “Of course not,” he scoffed. He rolled his eyes, then called out, “Shotgun!”

He rushed past the row of sports cars to a green luxury SUV, hiding his smug satisfaction at how Xiao Zhan’s eyes had roamed over his body. He deposited his duffle bag in the back before taking his spot triumphantly in the passenger seat, waiting for Xiao Zhan and Lele to catch up. He watched from the corner of his eyes as Xiao Zhan entered the vehicle and settled into the driver’s seat, pushing back the seat to make room for his long legs. Lele rolled in behind them, displaced from his usual position in the passenger seat, now that Yibo had claimed that spot.

“So, where are we going, Yibo?” Xiao Zhan asked, his eyes focused on re-adjusting the rear-view mirror.

“I’ll pull it up in the GPS,” Yibo replied, leaning over to punch in the destination from the previous saved locations. He then pulled up the playlist that he had been listening to before, a collection of softer songs that had suited his mood of the day. It would save them from awkward silence.

As Xiao Zhan reversed their car and pulled out of the garage, Yibo snuck a glance over. This was the first time for the two of them to be this close since that night. His eyes traced longingly over the handsome profile, the curve of those lips, before he turned away to look out the side window, watching the buildings race past as they left the mafia residence behind. Du Huan had built the residence on the outskirts of the city, and it would be a long drive to the motorcycle circuit.

They drove in silence for a few songs, as Xiao Zhan navigated his way onto the Fourth Ring Road. While stuck waiting to merge onto the expressway, Yibo cleared his throat and turned towards Xiao Zhan. “Thank you for driving.”

Xiao Zhan glanced over, his eyes showing his surprise before he turned quickly back towards the road. “It seemed like this race was important to you.” He paused, and Yibo wondered if they would return to their silence of before, but Xiao Zhan continued, “What is the race today?”

Yibo felt a slight warmth of relief. It seemed like Xiao Zhan wasn’t planning on ignoring him this whole car ride. “It’s part of the championship race. I’m racing in the amateur group for rookies.” It _was_ important to him as a matter of fact. Yibo had told very few people about it, and not even Du Huan knew. Not that Du Huan had that much of an interest in Yibo’s motorcycle activities. He financed Yibo’s hobby, and Yibo couldn’t ask for more than that.

Xiao Zhan stole another glance at Yibo, his eyes filled with wonder. “The championship? Wow, that’s impressive.”

Yibo shrugged, but he couldn’t help the smile that came over his face.

“Do you get nervous?” Xiao Zhan asked.

“Of course I get a bit nervous. But I just have to focus on the track and do my best.”

Xiao Zhan’s gaze lingered a bit longer this time and Yibo found himself breaking eye contact first.

“Can you tell me more about it? How did you get started with it?” There was genuine curiosity in Xiao Zhan’s voice.

Encouraged, Yibo was keen to fill the silence. “I’ve always loved motorbikes. I loved being around them, and used to work part-time at a motorbike shop, on top of my other work as a dancer. I always wanted one of my own, but I couldn’t afford it at the time. I had some older friends that would let me go for a ride on theirs and I loved it. I loved the freedom of it. When I married Du Huan, I told him I wanted to try racing for real, and he paid for me to get a coach and ride more seriously.” He paused, feeling somewhat awkward at the mention of his husband.

Xiao Zhan didn’t seem to be deterred by this though, as he questioned further, “How long have you been racing for?”

“It’s been a few years since I started. I’ve joined a few amateur races here and there, but this is the first championship like this.”

“The silver medal I saw last time—what was that from?”

“That was just something from a smaller regional race. Not a big deal, really.” Still, Yibo was pleasantly surprised that Xiao Zhan had remembered.

Xiao Zhan peered over. “I’m not sure that I believe that. I’m sure it still wasn’t easy.”

Yibo didn’t support or deny this.

Xiao Zhan continued, “Is it usual for people to join the championship just a few years after getting into racing?”

“I think it depends. I’m lucky to have such a great coach, and I don’t have to work so I can spend more time on the tracks.” There were perks to being the mafia boss’ trophy husband.

“That’s still really cool though.”

Yibo felt his cheeks form into a smile, glowing in the attention.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes softened, before he turned away again, clearing his throat. “This will be my first time watching a motorbike race. What should I know about it?”

Yibo answered Xiao Zhan’s question eagerly, becoming more animated than he ever was as a pretty accessory at the mafia boss’ side. He rarely had a chance to talk about his passion for motorbikes, and found it unexpectedly easy to talk to Xiao Zhan about it. Xiao Zhan kept his focus on the road, but would turn his head every now and then, offering an affirmative sound to show that he was listening and interested. A gentle smile appeared on his face, and it stoked the fuzzy glow that Yibo was feeling. There was warmth in Xiao Zhan’s eyes, a warmth that was never seen during their mafia meetings.

“You really seem to love racing,” he remarked, after Yibo was done explaining.

“I just think that if I’m going to do something, then I should do it well,” Yibo stated, as if it was obvious. He looked over to catch Xiao Zhan staring. When Yibo locked eyes with him, the warmth he felt rapidly turned into a burning heat. 

The honking from the car behind them made Xiao Zhan turn his attention hastily forward to the road again. Yibo turned to look out the side window, his face lightly flushed. For a moment, he had forgotten that it wasn’t just the two of them alone in the car, his mind filling with memories from that night. Lele sat wordlessly behind them.

Neither spoke for a while after, and they listened to the songs cycle through in Yibo’s playlist. Yibo became lost in his thoughts, and when the speakers started to play a familiar piano intro, he found himself singing along without realizing. 

“曾经意外 他和他 相爱  
 _Once, by accident, they fell in love,_

在不会 犹豫的时代  
 _In an age without hesitation.”_

As he continued to the chorus, the music swelled, and his voice became stronger as he belted out—

“忘不了 你的爱  
 _Can’t forget your love,”_

—only to realize belatedly the contents of what he was singing, and the context of whom he was sitting in the car with. He faltered awkwardly, shutting his mouth and wanting to crawl into the car seat in his embarrassment. He resolutely looked outside and it took all his effort to not bring his hands up to cover his face, which felt incredibly hot now. 

They listened to Liang Bo finish the rest of the song, before it changed to the next song on the playlist.

“You have a nice voice.” Xiao Zhan’s voice was kind, not betraying any mirth or discomfort.

Yibo didn’t know how to respond, so they spent the rest of the ride in silence.

As they neared the exit for the motorcycle circuit, Yibo forced his thoughts on the task ahead. He would deal with the embarrassment later. 

When they parked and got off the car, Yibo grabbed his dufflebag and stared at the ground in front of Xiao Zhan’s feet as he said, “Wait by the stands. I’ll come find you after.” Then he turned and tried to walk away as coolly as possible, Lele following a few steps behind.

\--

Xiao Zhan watched the figure of Yibo walking away, smiling despite himself. As he made his way over to the stands, he surveyed the area, reflexively making note of where the exits were. He knew from Yibo’s explanation earlier that the first race Yibo would be participating in was a qualifying race, to determine his position in the official races later that day and tomorrow. He made note of all the people that were around, gathered in the stands and around the tracks. He knew they were unlikely to run into any of the rival mafia gangs here, but he remained vigilant whenever he was out. He had a cap on to cover his face, and was dressed discreetly, his clothes covering the weaponry that he carried at all times. Satisfied that nothing seemed to be amiss, he waited for Yibo’s appearance.

When Yibo finally stepped out to where he could be seen, Xiao Zhan almost didn’t recognize him. He had removed all traces of his trophy husband look—the brand name houndstooth set was exchanged for a sleek leather racing suit, embellished with bright neon green and blue stripes, a red triangle bringing attention to his ass where the text “TRACER” was written. He had removed his various piercings and jewelry, replacing it instead with a simple cap. His face was bare, set in a serious determination. It was an Yibo that Xiao Zhan had never seen, so different from the prettily decorated Yibo that he had been accustomed to seeing. If anything, the contrast drew Xiao Zhan in even more. There really was more to Yibo than met the eye, the mysterious trophy husband who hid his secrets behind a gold-gilded façade and a beautiful face.

Soon Yibo donned his helmet, only recognizable now by the green of his suit and the number “85” on his bike. He rode onto the tracks, and Xiao Zhan felt a slight edge—was it nervousness that he felt? He wondered why; he wasn’t the one about to compete. When the race started, Xiao Zhan found himself transfixed, his eyes never leaving the green figure that was zipping around, cutting it dangerously close around the curves. It wasn’t until Yibo sped past the finish line on his last lap that Xiao Zhan realized he had been holding his breath. He glanced at the scoreboard. Yibo had come in second, securing his place in the official race. Xiao Zhan breathed a sigh of relief, a smile crossing his face. He wondered what Yibo’s expression was underneath that helmet. He wouldn’t get to know, as Yibo soon left the tracks, to rest in between races.

The afternoon passed while Xiao Zhan waited for the later race, and after a few hours of sitting in the stagnant heat of the summer, Xiao Zhan made a mental note that he should bring a portable fan with him the next time he came to one of these. It took a few moments for him to realize that his mind had already concluded that he would be coming to see Yibo race again. He frowned.

He couldn’t deny the way his heart quickened when he saw Yibo step out again in his leather suit. Yibo had his sunglasses on, and was listening intently to a man Xiao Zhan assumed to be his coach. Xiao Zhan’s eyes traced up the form-fitting suit, and at that moment Yibo turned to face the bleachers, searching. Xiao Zhan automatically raised his hand to wave, catching Yibo’s attention. Yibo spotted him and immediately broke into a shy grin, which Xiao Zhan returned with his own encouraging smile. Yibo ducked his head and quickly turned back towards his coach. Xiao Zhan brought his hand back down, his smile lingering after seeing how Yibo had lit up, and he felt an unfamiliar warmth bubble up inside him.

He leaned forward in his seat to watch Yibo pull up to the starting line and begin the warm-up run. It amazed Xiao Zhan just how far Yibo could lean into the angle of the curve, how in control Yibo seemed to be, riding at a relatively leisurely pace before he slowed to stop at the starting line again, this time waiting for the light to signal the official start of the race.

The row of lights extinguished, and Yibo was off. He was fast, passing competitors and leaving more and more people behind him. Soon there was only one racer ahead of him, and only a couple more laps to go. The other racers chased closely behind, and Xiao Zhan watched nervously as Yibo finished his second last lap. If he kept up like this, he could get second place. The finish line was so close—but at the last curve, at the very last moment, another racer snuck up from behind and sped past, stealing second place. Xiao Zhan breathed an audible sigh of regret.

He watched Lele rush over with an umbrella as Yibo returned from the tracks. When Yibo took off his helmet, his hair a sweaty ruffled mess around him, Xiao Zhan saw that Yibo did not seem pleased. Disappointment was written all over his face, and he listened solemnly to his coach giving him pointers, patting him on the back in an attempt to cheer him up. His brows were furrowed, his lips drawn together in a grim line. He returned to the changerooms, disappearing from view once more, without looking up at Xiao Zhan once.

Xiao Zhan found himself wishing he could be at Yibo’s side, to offer him comfort. But what could he do for Yibo? He was just Yibo’s driver for the day. He could do nothing but wait, the bleachers slowly clearing around him as the audience trickled out. He absentmindedly glanced around, pausing as he saw the figure of a man following the other audience members out. Xiao Zhan hadn’t noticed him before, but now that there were less people around, the man stood out. He wasn’t looking in Xiao Zhan’s direction, and Xiao Zhan wasn’t sure if the man was aware of his presence. Xiao Zhan didn’t move, turning so that he wasn’t looking directly at the man. He had a feeling that the man looked familiar, an uneasiness coming over him. He watched from the periphery of his vision, only looking around more openly when he was sure the man had left for the parking lot. His hand reached instinctively to where he had his gun at his belt. He checked to make sure his knife was secured in place and easily accessible.

He mulled over whether he should tell Yibo, but decided it would be better not to worry him; the younger man was probably already preoccupied. After all, it was only a suspicion for now. Xiao Zhan would have to be more careful.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the shadow of someone approach him quietly and he spun around, hand reaching instinctively to where his knife was hidden, only to find that it was Yibo walking towards him. Yibo had changed back into his trophy husband attire, except he was only wearing the sheer white button up without the jacket from earlier, along with the devastatingly short houndstooth shorts. Around his neck he had a towel that he was using to tousle his wet hair, his nose pink and flushed from the shower he must have taken recently. The sheer white shirt clung to his slightly damp body and Xiao Zhan swallowed. He quickly shrugged off his bomber jacket to sling around Yibo’s shoulders.

“You’ll catch a cold if you walk around like that,” Xiao Zhan muttered. Never mind that they were in the middle of summer.

The gesture drew Yibo in close to him as Xiao Zhan adjusted the jacket to make sure it wouldn’t fall off. Yibo’s eyes widened, his hair still dripping like that of a wet puppy, towel forgotten in his hands. Realizing how close they stood, Xiao Zhan cleared his throat and stepped back, looking away.

“You should dry your hair.”

Yibo nodded quickly, reminded of what he had been doing. When he had towel-dried his hair as well as he could, he passed the towel to Lele, who had been waiting by the side patiently.

Without looking back at Xiao Zhan, Yibo spoke, “Let’s go.”

Xiao Zhan could hear the dejection in his words and couldn’t help but sneak worried glances at Yibo as they walked back towards the car, all while keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings, wary of the man that he had seen earlier. Luckily, he didn’t see any signs of the man again.

Yibo remained silent as Xiao Zhan pulled out of the parking lot and drove back onto the expressway. When he had comfortably settled into a lane on the Fourth Ring Road, he turned to Yibo.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

Yibo groaned, throwing his head back onto the headrest. “I was careless.”

Xiao Zhan’s eyes switched between Yibo and the road, waiting to see if the other man had more to say.

“I could have done better. I thought I was almost there, so I slowed down.” Yibo sighed.

“The other man came out of nowhere.”

Yibo shook his head. “I knew he was behind me, I shouldn’t have let down my guard.”

Xiao Zhan had an urge to reach over and squeeze Yibo’s hand, to encourage him, to tell him that he had still done well. But it wasn’t his place. He knew Yibo had to process it on his own, and besides, it wasn’t as if they were close enough for Xiao Zhan’s words to offer any comfort. So he stayed quiet.

Yibo let out another heavy sigh. “I’ll just have to try harder for tomorrow’s race.” His face was set in a stubborn determination.

“Yes, there’s still tomorrow.” Xiao Zhan recognized the anticipation he felt, and reminded himself again that he was only Yibo’s driver for the day.

He couldn’t help but want to do something for Yibo though. He ran his fingers over his chin, pondering, before turning to ask, “Do you like hot pot?”

Yibo looked surprised, clearly not expecting this question. “Yes. Why?”

“Let me take you for hot pot.”

When Yibo didn’t say anything, Xiao Zhan glanced back at Lele. “Will that be okay?”

Lele looked surprised, but nodded.

Xiao Zhan turned back to look at Yibo, who had a tentative expression on his face. Then Yibo smiled. “Okay.” 

Relieved that Yibo was no longer looking so downcast, Xiao Zhan entered the address of his favourite restaurant into the navigation system, ignoring the fluttering sensation he felt from seeing Yibo’s smile.

“How’s your spice tolerance?”

Xiao Zhan looked over when Yibo didn’t answer immediately. “Fine. I like spicy food,” he said.

“Good, you’re going to like it then, I think.”

When he didn’t hear anything from Yibo for a while, he turned to find Yibo had fallen asleep, his mouth slightly agape. It had been a long day for him.

Xiao Zhan tried his best to avoid braking suddenly or making any abrupt lane changes—well, as best as one could in the traffic at this time of day. But Yibo remained fast asleep, the soft sigh of his hushed snoring the only sound in the car. 

Once Xiao Zhan had eased their car into a parking spot, he switched off the engine and sat there, waiting. Yibo’s head had lolled over during the ride so that he was leaning towards Xiao Zhan, his neck at an awkward angle. Xiao Zhan hesitated. If Yibo kept sleeping like this, he would wake up with a very sore neck. Xiao Zhan reached over and placed a hand on top of Yibo’s, shaking gently.

“Yibo.”

\--

“Yibo.”

Yibo woke up slowly to a pleasant voice calling his name.

“Yibo.”

There was something tender in that voice. Or perhaps it was just Yibo’s imagination in his sleep-dazed state. Or just a continuation of the dream that he had been having.

But there was a steady warmth pressing over his hand, a thumb lightly rubbing over his knuckles.

He blinked open his eyes and saw Xiao Zhan leaning over, watching him, his beautiful brown eyes examining Yibo’s face.

Yibo startled back, a sudden cramp in his neck reminding him of how he had fallen asleep in the car.

Xiao Zhan chuckled at his surprise. “Good morning.”

Yibo looked around, bewildered. The darkening sky and the lights flickering on from the stores around them disoriented Yibo for a moment, before he remembered that they were going for hot pot. He turned back to Xiao Zhan, who was peering at him with an amused expression.

“Sleep well?”

“Mmm.” Yibo rubbed at his neck, stretching out the kink in it. “Sorry, did I fall asleep for long?”

“You looked like you needed the rest. Now come on, let’s get you some breakfast.”

Yibo was about to comment that he had never had hot pot for breakfast before, but Xiao Zhan had already gotten off the car, and Lele was already at Yibo’s door, opening it for him.

“Thank you, Lele.” Yibo really was grateful for his loyalty. He paused, looking at Lele. “Will you be joining us?”

“Oh no, I’ll just wait nearby.”

Yibo frowned. “You should eat.”

Lele replied, “I’ll eat later, once you’re home safe.”

Yibo shook his head. “No, you should eat.” He pulled out his wallet and gave Lele enough money for dinner and more. “We know each other too well for you to play this polite act. I’ll be okay.” More than okay with the company he would be having really.

Lele searched Yibo’s face for confirmation. He seemed to recognize whatever expression he saw on Yibo’s face. “Then I’ll just drop by the noodle shop next door. If anything, just call, I’ll be right over.”

Yibo nodded gratefully, waving Lele off insistently. Lele glanced at Xiao Zhan, then back at Yibo, and turned to leave, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

Yibo looked back towards Xiao Zhan, who was waiting for him by the entrance to the restaurant. Yibo couldn’t help but stare, stunned by just how handsome his dinner companion was. Xiao Zhan had dressed casually today, in a simple t-shirt and track pants, instead of his usual all-black attire. He had removed his hat from earlier, revealing his lightly ruffled, unstyled hair. Something about seeing him like this felt intimate.

Yibo was aware that he still had the other’s bomber jacket around his shoulders, and moved to return it. Xiao Zhan shook his head. “Keep it.” His eyebrows drew up. “We wouldn’t want you to stain your white shirt.”

He had a point.

So they entered the hot pot restaurant, with Yibo still wearing Xiao Zhan’s jacket. They were immediately greeted by a barrage of sound and smell, the loud buzz of conversation filling the small restaurant, with the unmistakable aroma of hot pot in the air. It looked to be a family-owned restaurant, with randomly assorted furniture that didn’t entirely match and faded posters on the walls. The raucous laughter and the cozy charm of the place was drastically different from the upscale restaurants that Yibo went to with Du Huan. The elderly woman behind the cash register lit up when she saw Xiao Zhan, eyes wandering over curiously at Yibo. 

Xiao Zhan waved at the _lao ban niang_ , smiling in greeting, before taking a seat at one of the empty tables in the corner.

Yibo sat down across from him, and the two ordered their broth and desired hot pot ingredients from the kindly-looking woman. She kept glancing between Xiao Zhan and Yibo, but didn’t say anything, although questions clearly filled her mind.

“Do you come here often?” Yibo asked, grinning as she left the two alone. Perhaps tonight he could indulge in his fantasies. Here, no one knew that he was the mafia boss’ husband.

“I haven’t come in a long time. It is one of my favourites though. It reminds me…of home.” Xiao Zhan paused, and for a moment there was a flicker of grief across his face, only to be quickly replaced by a relaxed smile as he winked at Yibo. “Let’s get our dipping sauce.”

He stood up and Yibo followed him, unsure as to whether to feel giddy or offended by the unexpected flirtatious behaviour from Xiao Zhan. Nevertheless, he had a delighted grin on his face that he struggled to hide as they walked over to a table holding a row of assorted containers. There were various sauce ingredients for customers to choose from, and Xiao Zhan filled his bowl without hesitation, clearly familiar with what he wanted despite the lack of labels. Yibo inspected the different brown sauces and hesitated.

“Which one’s the soy sauce?”

Xiao Zhan looked over, and must have seen the lost expression on Yibo’s face because he laughed. “Do you want me to mix your sauce for you?”

Yibo grinned and passed his bowl over to Xiao Zhan. “Thank you, _ge_.”

He watched closely as Xiao Zhan filled it with the various sauces. When he passed it back to Yibo, Yibo ensured that there was an adequate pile of cilantro added before he was satisfied and followed Xiao Zhan back to their table.

When they returned, there was already a steaming pot of bright red broth waiting on the burner between them. Yibo was relieved to see that there was a small compartment in the centre holding clear broth. The _lao ban niang_ approached with a cart, plopping several dishes of meat and assorted vegetables down unceremoniously before heading back to the kitchen.

Yibo’s eyes lit up, his stomach growling. He never ate much during race day, and he was now absolutely ravenous.

“I know this place probably isn’t as fancy as what you’re used to,” Xiao Zhan remarked, his tone slightly apologetic. “But the _lao ban niang_ here always finds really fresh meat.”

Yibo shook his head. “I like finding out what Zhan-ge likes.” He glanced up through his lashes, checking for the other’s response. 

Xiao Zhan, usually so calm, now looked undoubtedly flustered, perhaps recalling the context in which Yibo had last called him so familiarly. 

Yibo smirked and proceeded to toss in more vegetables to the pot.

They sat in silence for a moment, waiting for the water to boil again. Then Xiao Zhan picked out the cooked meat to place a pile on Yibo’s plate.

“Yibo—” Xiao Zhan hesitated.

Yibo looked up, midway through a bite. He saw the serious expression on Xiao Zhan’s face, and decided he wasn’t ready to hear whatever the other man had to say.

“You should have some meat too, don’t just give it all to me,” he interrupted, shifting some of the meat that Xiao Zhan had given him onto the other’s plate. Never mind that they still had another full plate left of raw meat to cook. Yibo fought against the sinking feeling of rejection that was threatening to overtake the warm glow that he had had only seconds ago.

They ate in silence, cooking for one another but not exchanging any further words. Yibo continued to gulp down his tea, and Xiao Zhan refilled his cup wordlessly.

At some point Xiao Zhan must have noticed the way Yibo breathed through his mouth, his lips red and swollen. “Is it too spicy, Yibo?”

Yibo shook his head stubbornly. But as he tried to extinguish the fire on his tongue, and as Xiao Zhan emptied the remainder of their tea into Yibo’s cup, Yibo sighed. “Okay, a little.” He saw the amused sparkle in Xiao Zhan’s eye and relented. “Okay a lot.” He downed the rest of his cup in one gulp.

“Then why didn’t you say so? Here, let’s cook more with the clear broth.” Xiao Zhan’s tone was kind and Yibo watched as he slid the rest of the vegetables that Yibo had ordered into the center of the pot, where it didn’t look quite as vividly red as the rest of the pot. He glanced up to see Xiao Zhan watching him carefully.

"I can ask _lao ban niang_ for some milk."

Yibo thought of declining, but as he took another bite of food he surrendered. "Okay." At this point it was getting embarrassing. Truly, Yibo had thought that he would be able to tolerate the spice, but he had clearly underestimated how much heat Xiao Zhan could take. What was Yibo trying to prove anyways?

The _lao ban niang_ was very nice about it. She placed a full glass of milk in front of Yibo with a sympathetic smile, before turning to Xiao Zhan. "Aiya, shouldn't a boyfriend be more considerate about how much spiciness your partner can take?"

This time Xiao Zhan was the one to turn red, as he protested, "We're not—"

But the _lao ban niang_ wouldn't hear it, she had left the table already.

Yibo sullenly downed his glass of milk, finally getting some relief from the flames around his mouth. It did nothing to soothe the burning he felt elsewhere. He avoided looking at Xiao Zhan.

"Yibo."

"Hmm."

"I—thought you were really cool today. On the tracks."

Yibo looked up, startled.

"I can see it means a lot to you.” Xiao Zhan looked directly in Yibo’s eyes as he spoke, and there was nothing but sincerity in his voice. “You must have put a lot of effort into it. I know you're not happy about what happened, but you were still the coolest racer there for me."

Yibo's eyes widened, his lips turning up at the unexpected praise, a flush coming to his cheeks. How was he supposed to interpret that? The embarrassment and disappointment from before were replaced entirely by a warm trembling sensation that threw his heart into disarray. "Thanks." He had stopped eating anything spicy, but why was his face feeling so hot? "I—don’t usually have someone come and watch. Other than Lele and Yanyan I mean."

Well, there was also his mentor, but this was different. He couldn't deny the excitement that he had felt, to think that Xiao Zhan had been in the audience, watching him. He knew the excitement was misplaced, a forbidden thrill, but he couldn't help it. Because Yibo had kept his hobby a secret from most people, he wasn't used to receiving such praise. It felt different when it was his mentor complimenting him, because it felt like it was just the fatherly thing for him to do. Hearing such words come from Xiao Zhan's mouth had been unfathomable, and Yibo was glowing after hearing this acknowledgement of all the sweat and tears that he had poured into his motorcycle. He felt two pricks of moisture threaten to leak from his eyes, and blinked furiously. He wasn't crying, it was just a delayed reaction to the spice.

"Does Du Huan never come to see you?"

Yibo sniffed. "It's not his thing. Besides, it might bring unwanted attention. He pays for me, and that's enough."

"You mean—never? Not even once?" Why did Xiao Zhan sound so offended? "Oh Yibo, that's—" Whatever Xiao Zhan was about to say, he kept it to himself. "Well, he's missing out, not seeing this super handsome side of you."

Yibo probably had the silliest grin on his face by now, but he couldn't stop it, and drank more tea to try to hide how delighted he felt. "Thank you." Maybe he had too much tea tonight, the caffeine was making him feel jittery. He happily placed a pile of non-spicy _gong cai_ in his mouth. Noticing that Xiao Zhan had stopped eating, Yibo picked out mushrooms from the spicy broth to put on the other's plate.

"What about you?" Yibo looked up, satisfied that Xiao Zhan had picked up his chopsticks again. "Do you have anything you do? Other than, you know." Participating in organized crime with a side of murder.

Xiao Zhan was quiet. There was deep sorrow that traveled across his face, and Yibo felt a twinge in his chest, wondering what could have happened for Xiao Zhan to have such an expression. It made him want to bring Xiao Zhan close, to cradle him and soothe him of whatever had hurt him in the past. "No, I don't suppose I do," Xiao Zhan replied.

"What about something you enjoy? Something that makes you happy?" While Yibo was fiercely attracted to the serious Xiao Zhan who wasn't to be messed with, he also wondered what the man was like when he was not on mafia duty, what made him smile in a day.

Xiao Zhan rubbed his chin, thinking. "I suppose...pastries."

Yibo raised his eyebrows. "You mean like, a new inventive way of trafficking our product?"

"No," Xiao Zhan looked almost bashful while admitting this, and Yibo felt his defenses crumble even further. "Like—bread and tarts."

Yibo's eyebrows would have flown past his hairline if they could. Xiao Zhan, the renowned assassin and fearsome right-hand man to the mafia boss, a _baker_? Yibo imagined Xiao Zhan, so often covered in the blood of his enemies, instead covered in flour and dough. Xiao Zhan, a man who carved permanent scars into a person's face, instead piping delicate designs onto a cake.

The thought was too much. Yibo laughed wholeheartedly, the tears from before now escaping his eyes. As he laughed, he realized he was probably finding too much joy in the idea if Xiao Zhan had been genuinely serious about his interest. Yibo hiccupped as he tried to stifle his laughter, feeling slightly guilty for making fun of Xiao Zhan's response.

But Xiao Zhan did not seem offended. He only looked at Yibo, the corners of his eyes crinkling upwards as he smiled. There was a warmth in his eyes that Yibo hadn't seen before, and it filled a spot in Yibo's heart that he hadn't even known was empty.

He wished he could hang on to this feeling.

Their conversation flowed easily after, as they chatted about nothing in particular. The time passed blissfully, and by the time Lele showed up at the restaurant, Yibo realized that a couple of hours had already gone by. Aside from the fact that Xiao Zhan was the sexiest man that Yibo had laid his eyes on, it felt nice just to be able to chat with someone who was closer in age. Their initial awkwardness now forgotten behind them, it felt comfortable to be in one another’s presence. In this cozy family establishment, surrounded by regular citizens who had nothing to do with the mafia, it almost felt as if they were just two ordinary people going out for dinner. Two ordinary people who felt an undeniable attraction to one another. For just that evening, Yibo could imagine what it might be like if they continued to see each other, without having to worry about creating a huge upset around them.

Lele spotted them, and if not for the fact that he had walked right up to their table, Yibo might not have noticed, too distracted by the way that Xiao Zhan was looking at him.

Lele cleared his throat. “I’ll wait outside by the car.”

Xiao Zhan broke eye contact first. “We’ll be right out.” Was Yibo imagining the regret in his voice?

Xiao Zhan called the _lao ban niang_ over for the bill. As she cleaned up their table, she commented, “You haven’t come by in a while.” She glanced at Xiao Zhan and her expression softened. “You look better than I’ve ever seen you.” She turned to Yibo and smiled. “Make sure he doesn’t starve himself!”

Xiao Zhan looked surprised, but did not try to correct her. Yibo grinned smugly. “I’ll make sure he eats double.” He cackled at Xiao Zhan’s exasperated look.

Xiao Zhan shook his head, one side of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Wang Yibo, you—” His tone hinted at a lightly veiled threat, which only made Yibo want to push him further. 

The _lao ban niang_ left the two of them to one another, muttering something about young people in love.

Yibo pulled out his hefty wallet, and seeing that Xiao Zhan was about to protest, Yibo insisted, “What use is it if I can’t even spend his money?” He stood up and went to settle their bill at the cash register.

As he handed the cash to the _lao ban niang_ , she looked meaningfully at him. “You’re the first one that he’s brought here. I’m glad he’s finally opening up to someone.” Seeing how surprised Yibo looked, her brows furrowed. “What—you mean you’re not—?” She peered up into Yibo’s face. Did his longing show? “Oh _dear_ , but surely you see the way he looks at you?”

Yibo didn’t know how to respond to that, his feelings twisted into a complicated bundle of hope and yearning and agony.

She placed the change in his hands, closing his fingers around it with a warm squeeze. “I’m cheering for the two of you.”

Yibo couldn’t help the heavy feeling in his heart as he thanked her. It was kind of her, but she didn’t realize the challenges that lay between Yibo and Xiao Zhan. That wanting for anything more would likely lead to further suffering.

And yet, as Yibo returned to where Xiao Zhan stood waiting for him, he thought that he might just be crazy enough to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lele is the first one to ship the two of them. He's watched Yibo for many years, so he recognizes when Yibo starts developing a thing for Xiao Zhan. His loyalty is to Yibo first and foremost, rather than to Du Huan or the rest of the mafia.
> 
>  _lao ban niang_ 老板娘 = female restaurant owner/lady boss. I couldn't remember if there was an English equivalent so I stuck with the Chinese
> 
>  _gong cai_ 贡菜 = a type of vegetable that Yibo likes to order for hot pot (mentioned on sdc3's _let's hot pot together_ )
> 
> The song Yibo sings is [Nan Hai](https://youtu.be/ivL_qqdM7O0).


	5. Chapter 5

When Xiao Zhan realized why the suspicious man from earlier had seemed familiar, his sense of uneasiness deepened. The man’s presence at the race did not bode well.

That night, Xiao Zhan slept fitfully, his mind racing with thoughts about why the man might have shown up at Yibo’s race, trying to recall what he knew about the man, thinking about how he would address this with the boss tomorrow, and worrying about how Yibo might react.

Yibo.

When Xiao Zhan wasn’t worrying about what the appearance of the man meant, his mind was filled with thoughts of Yibo. Yibo flying around the racetrack, in his element. Yibo with his eyes sparkling as he spoke about motorcycles. Yibo with his fierce look of determination as he vowed to do better, pursuing his passion seriously. Yibo in Xiao Zhan’s bomber jacket, with his toned dancer’s legs in those short shorts. Yibo with his lips bright red, trying to hide how much he had been suffering from the spice. Yibo with the dimple in his cheek when he laughed at Xiao Zhan’s mention of his love for pastries.

Yibo shone so brilliantly, like the brightest star in the sky, emitting a radiance from within that was uniquely him. But the brighter the light that he radiated, the more afraid that Xiao Zhan became. Yibo’s light wasn’t for Xiao Zhan’s to enjoy. The more that Xiao Zhan became dazzled by Yibo, the more scared he was, of being blinded if he sought to be too close. He was fearful of what would happen if he were to get used to Yibo’s radiance, of how dark and cold the night would become when Yibo left him. Sometimes it was better to stay in the darkness, to never know how bright it could be. Stars were best admired from a distance.

He thought of how brightly Yibo had shone on the tracks yesterday. He thought of how Yibo’s brilliance paled when he was next to the boss, beautiful still, but merely a pretty ornament to look at. He thought of how Yibo’s eyes had watered when he had been praised for his hard-earned skill, recognized for being more than just a pretty face. As Xiao Zhan recalled how Yibo had said that Du Huan had never once shown up in person to support his husband’s passion, the anger Xiao Zhan felt returned in full force.

It was a crime that Du Huan didn’t acknowledge Yibo’s talents, didn’t come to support his races and wasn’t around to compliment Yibo when he did well. Xiao Zhan ignored the irony that Du Huan was clearly not opposed to committing crime of any sort.

Just thinking about Du Huan stirred the hatred in Xiao Zhan’s soul. It was an ugly, all-consuming beast, and it took all of Xiao Zhan’s determination not to reveal it when he was in Du Huan’s company. He hated Du Huan. He had hated Du Huan with every cell in his body for years, and it gnawed away at him whenever he was around Du Huan. The only way he dealt with it was to use it to his advantage. His hatred was his fuel, it motivated him, and it paved the path for him. It had led him to hone his skills as an assassin, to build his reputation until Du Huan took interest and accepted him into the family.

He was going to kill Du Huan.

It was his singular purpose in life. Xiao Zhan couldn’t remember at what point that it became so, and perhaps it was an accumulation of suffering that had led him down this road. He had been planning his whole life around this. It was just a matter of waiting for the perfect opportunity.

But then there was Yibo. Xiao Zhan had found himself beginning to wonder, and worry, about how Yibo would respond when Xiao Zhan murdered his husband. Xiao Zhan hadn’t wavered from his goal once up until now, but thoughts of Yibo made him hesitate. It unnerved him how much his thoughts returned to Yibo.

He needed to distance himself from Yibo. He couldn’t let Yibo get entangled in his plots of revenge. Xiao Zhan had already done so much to try to achieve his goal, that he couldn’t let Yibo be a distraction.

But first there was the race tomorrow.

The next morning, there was apprehension in Xiao Zhan’s steps as he approached the mafia residence. He found the boss in his study.

“Xiao Zhan, you’re here early.” Du Huan looked up from his coffee. “Well, I wanted to ask you for a favour anyways.” 

Xiao Zhan bowed. “I am at your service, sir.” He had long perfected his act of a humble servant. One day, Du Huan would be the one at his feet. In the meantime, Xiao Zhan would be patient.

“It looks like Yanyan is still recovering. Are you able to drive Yibo again today?”

Xiao Zhan hid his surprise. It did make things a little easier, giving him a reason to accompany Yibo so that he could be there himself to monitor the situation. “Actually, I had wanted to speak to you about this. When I was at the racetracks yesterday, I saw Haochen there, just as we were leaving.”

Du Huan narrowed his eyes. “The Li family. What do they want?”

“I’m not sure either. They’ve been quiet these days. But this gives me a bad feeling.”

“I trust you’ll keep an eye on things.” Du Huan took a sip from his coffee. “No one gets to lay a finger on my husband.” He said this nonchalantly, but it still sent a chill down Xiao Zhan’s spine. Did Du Huan know?

Du Huan was still looking down at his coffee mug, swirling the contents around slowly. “Keep me posted. Yibo said he had to leave in half an hour. He’s in the dining room.”

Xiao Zhan nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Just as Xiao Zhan turned to leave, Du Huan spoke, “Oh and thank you for taking my husband to hot pot yesterday.”

Xiao Zhan froze, carefully spinning around again to look Du Huan in the eye. He had realized belatedly that hot pot was the least subtle place to take someone’s spouse—the unmistakable smell always clung to one’s clothes and hair after. 

“I know I haven’t had much time to spend with him these days so he’s feeling bored. He’s just looking for someone to play with.” Was this Du Huan warning him not to fall for Yibo? He was surely aware of how attractive his husband was, and how attractive other people found him to be.

“I will do whatever I can to be of service.” Xiao Zhan bowed his head reverently. 

Du Huan scrutinized Xiao Zhan’s expression, which revealed nothing. Finally, he waved a hand dismissively at Xiao Zhan. “You may go.”

Xiao Zhan walked out as calmly as he could, not betraying any of the nervousness or the anger that he felt.

He turned towards the dining hall, and found Yibo alone at the large mahogany table, with an impressive breakfast spread in front of him. Du Huan’s dining hall was massive, large enough to hold a feast for all the mafia executives, but in this moment, there was only Yibo, sitting at the head of the table. There was enough food in front of him to feed a small family, but it looked like Yibo had only picked at it, eating very little. When he looked up to see Xiao Zhan entering, his expression changed instantly, replaced by a wide smile that glowed with joy. In a breath, he had transformed from an indifferent trophy husband to a man with a pure-hearted and boyish charm.

Xiao Zhan could feel his resolution from yesterday evening and earlier this morning melting away. He struggled to appear as cold and unaffected as he could.

“Morning,” Yibo greeted happily.

Xiao Zhan looked away. “Du Huan told me his husband needed a driver again today.” He spoke the word _husband_ , as a firm reminder to Yibo—and perhaps even moreso to himself—of the boundary in their relationship.

A quick glance over showed Yibo deflating at his words. “Oh. Yes.” 

“When do you need to leave?”

“I asked Lele to meet me soon.” Yibo paused. “Did you have breakfast? There’s plenty here if you want anything.”

“I ate already.” Xiao Zhan’s tone came out harsher than he had meant it to, but perhaps it was for the better.

“Oh. Okay. I just need to get my things then.”

“I’ll be in the garage.” Xiao Zhan then walked away, not allowing himself to look back.

\--

Yibo watched the handsome figure of Xiao Zhan leaving, perplexed.

He knew that it had been too much to hope for, to think that things might change overnight between the two of them. He had gone to bed last night with his heart aglow from the memory of Xiao Zhan’s warm words of praise and the fond expression on his face as he had wished Yibo a goodnight.

When Yibo awoke in the morning, the light of day brought with it a harsh reminder of reality. He turned his head and found it was not Xiao Zhan in the bed with him, but Du Huan.

As the two got up and went about their morning routines, Yibo had told him that Yanyan was still feeling unwell. He had watched Du Huan’s expression carefully when he asked about borrowing one of the mafia men to drive him again. Du Huan had paused in the middle of his shaving, staring at Yibo through his reflection in the mirror. Yibo stared back, his face trained into a neutral expression. Du Huan had then sighed, and replied that he would inform Xiao Zhan later. Yibo was grateful that Du Huan was not one to get jealous, holding remarkable confidence that anything within his possession would remain his. This was in fact true for the most part, at least when it came to anything the mafia owned. Du Huan had been at the top for many years now, and he had the arrogance of someone who knew that any competition could be easily removed.

Yibo knew that his position as the mafia boss’ husband was intimidating. As he realized that his feelings for Xiao Zhan were growing into something beyond just physical attraction, there were other more complicated thoughts that accompanied. He worried about what would happen to Xiao Zhan if Du Huan found out. He worried about how he would reconcile his mission with his feelings for Xiao Zhan. He worried about hurting Xiao Zhan when Xiao Zhan found out the truth about Yibo.

But he still wanted Xiao Zhan. When Yibo took a liking to something, he loved it wholeheartedly.

When he had gotten dressed that morning, he chose something that would be comfortable and easy to move around in. He wore a flowy oversized light blue button-up, loosely half-tucked into white jeans. He had decided to forgo his usual number of accessories, donning only his gold hoop earrings and the chain necklace that held Du Huan’s diamond ring, which he hid underneath his shirt. 

Once Du Huan had left the suite for his morning coffee, Yibo had taken out his burner phone, hidden beneath his pile of dildos and massagers.

_Yibo: Xiao Zhan will be with me again today. You should stay away just in case._

He waited for the response, alert and listening in case he heard any movement of Du Huan returning. Yibo knew his mentor usually liked to come for the important races, but he didn’t want to risk being found out, on the off chance that Xiao Zhan recognized his friend. 

After a few minutes, there was a response.

_H: Ok. Be careful._

Yibo was about to turn off the phone again before there was another message.

_H: Good luck._

Smiling, he had powered off the phone and buried it once more in his box of toys, before heading to breakfast.

When he heard Xiao Zhan’s approach, Yibo looked up from his congee, and at the sight of him, in a crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows and trousers cropped just above his elegant ankles, Yibo couldn’t help the rush of excitement that he felt. _Shit_.

Yibo greeted him brightly but Xiao Zhan was cold in his response. Could he be having second thoughts after their dinner last night?

When Yibo met up with Xiao Zhan in the garage later, he continued to avoid looking at Yibo. Wordlessly they walked over to the car, with Lele just a few steps behind.

Yibo watched Xiao Zhan carefully as they settled into the car. Maybe Xiao Zhan had decided that he didn’t feel the same way as Yibo did. If that was the case, then Yibo didn’t want to push him.

Xiao Zhan didn’t start the car immediately, instead puffing out his cheeks to huff out a breath of air through his lips. He turned to Yibo, finally looking him in the eyes. “There’s something you should know.”

Yibo waited, nervous. If Xiao Zhan was going to say that they shouldn’t continue this—whatever this was—Yibo didn’t know how he would respond. 

“Yesterday, just before we left the tracks, I saw Haochen, one of the Li family’s men.”

Yibo felt the tension in his body release, relieved. Was that all that Xiao Zhan had wanted to talk about?

“I’m worried that he’s been following you.”

Yibo nodded. “I noticed him a few days ago at the practice runs too.” It wasn’t the first time that he had been followed.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes widened. “You mean you already knew?”

“I’m used to being targeted as the mafia boss’ husband,” Yibo replied matter-of-factly. “I have Lele.” He hesitated. “And you’re here. They would be stupid to try anything with the notorious Xiao Zhan around.” He smiled shyly, looking up at Xiao Zhan and batting his eyelashes.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes widened further before he took a deep breath and looked away. “We should still be careful. Let’s exchange numbers, in case anything happens.”

Yibo took down Xiao Zhan’s number, and hesitated, before he saved it as _Gege_.

“We can share locations too. Just in case,” Xiao Zhan continued. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

Yibo agreed, and soon he had a dot labeled _Gege_ on the map in his phone. He turned on his own location sharing on the app and Xiao Zhan confirmed that he had Yibo on his phone. Xiao Zhan took down Lele’s number as well, before he appeared to be satisfied.

“It will just be for today,” Xiao Zhan stated. “You can turn it off once we get back.”

Despite his aloofness earlier in the morning, it was clear that he still cared. Once again, Yibo felt a twinge of hope, fluttering, despite his better judgment. 

They drove out in silence, with Yibo’s music filling the emptiness. He snuck a glance over at Xiao Zhan every now and then, and tried to strike up conversation.

“Did you sleep okay last night?”

“Yeah.” Xiao Zhan’s response was curt.

“I packed a fan for you in my bag. It’s supposed to be hot today and I didn’t want you to get a heat stroke.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Yibo stared at Xiao Zhan. He could feel the wall of defense that the other man was building between them, and it hurt. It confused Yibo, to have Xiao Zhan so worried about his safety in one moment, then so cold the next.

“I packed a snack for you as well. In case you get hungry while you wait. It will be a few hours before the actual race.”

Xiao Zhan sighed. “You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.” His eyes remained focused on the road in front of them.

Yibo tried to think of other things to say, to fill the silence, but was at a loss.

By the time they arrived at the motorcycle circuit, Yibo was feeling rather discouraged. He shoved the electric fan and chocolate bar that he had packed into Xiao Zhan’s hands. “I’ll see you after the race.” He didn’t have the heart to look at Xiao Zhan, not wanting to be met by the same cold-hearted look that Xiao Zhan used on others.

He heard Xiao Zhan sigh, then felt a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing. Yibo glanced up tentatively, and Xiao Zhan was looking at him with kind eyes.

“Just focus on your race, okay?” His voice was reassuring. “I’ll take care of anything else that comes up.” Then, hesitantly, he smiled. “Good luck, Yibo. You’ve got this.”

That was all it took, for Yibo to feel that maybe things would be okay. Since when were his emotions so quick to fluctuate? “Thank you, Zhan-ge,” he replied softly.

Then he turned to face the race ahead of him.

\--

Xiao Zhan entered the stands with his head low, eyes darting around to take note of who was there. He found a seat close to the exit, one that offered him a decent vantage point of the area. So far there were no signs of Haochen, or anyone else from the Li family. This did little to settle Xiao Zhan—there was still the entire day ahead. 

He felt nervous energy vibrate through him, and it was only soothed when he saw Yibo step out in his racing suit, looking very much alive and well, preparing to ride in the warm-up. His face betrayed no emotions, appearing unaffected by the possibility of being the target of a mafia gang. He was nodding absentmindedly to the music that he was listening to, appearing calm and composed even as he got on his motorcycle and rode towards the track.

He completed his warm-up run with no issue, to Xiao Zhan’s relief. At least Yibo’s performance on the track did not seem to be affected.

It would be another couple of hours before Yibo’s actual race. Xiao Zhan took this time to explore the area further, while keeping a watchful eye on the people around.

There were more people gathered here than yesterday, despite it being one of the hotter days of the summer. Xiao Zhan could feel the sweat trickling down his temples from underneath his cap. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, fanning himself and wiping the damp slickness around his neck with the back of his hand. He reached inside his fanny pack to grab his iced tea, to find the handheld fan that Yibo had given him, along with the softening chocolate bar. 

He felt the corners of his lips tick up despite himself at the thought of Yibo, and took out the chocolate to finish it before it became a melted mess in his bag. As he chewed, he peered around, eyes passing over the audience, a sea of umbrellas, of people seeking shelter from the heat of the sun. There were old and young alike, from the visor auntie who had on sunglasses and a scarf tied over her face to avoid tanning, to those who had travelled from abroad to support their favourite racer from their home country, to the young boy sitting atop his grandfather’s shoulder. They were all there to share in the thrill of the race, to spend a day out at the tracks and catch up with friends and family.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes glanced past them to freeze on a face that stood out, one whose focus was not on the racers.

From a distance away, Xiao Zhan couldn’t be sure it was him, and a brightly coloured umbrella promptly came between them to block Xiao Zhan’s view of the other man. Xiao Zhan readjusted his cap and casually strolled in the man’s direction, stuffing the empty chocolate wrapper into his pocket and bringing Yibo’s electric fan in front of him to conceal his face partially. The next time he looked, he could no longer see the man. He glanced around quickly, but there was no sign of Haochen. As he approached the seat where Xiao Zhan had spotted the man just moments before, his eyes searched wildly, but saw only innocent fans, their attention on the track as the next race was underway. Nearby, there was a path leading to the indoor area where people could rest in the cool air conditioning, and Xiao Zhan followed it, not seeing anywhere else that the man might have gone. He followed a group of spectators inside, leaving them behind as they lined up at the concession stand. He walked at a casual pace, but internally his mind was racing. He cursed at himself for letting the man get away, and for letting himself be recognized before he could even catch the man. He wandered around the concession hall to no avail, and headed back outside, his hands feeling sweatier than usual. As he settled into another seat, he quickly messaged Lele, to confirm Yibo’s whereabouts.

He bit into his lip while he waited, feeling restless, but only a few minutes had really passed before he felt the buzz of his phone. He hurriedly swiped it open, to be greeted by a photo of Yibo, his head leaning back with his racing suit partially unzipped, his eyes closed and resting. Xiao Zhan took a deep breath, feeling calmer.

He decided he couldn’t sit still, and spent the rest of the time wandering along the sidelines. As much as he looked though, there were no further traces of Haochen, or anyone else associated. This did nothing to ease his mind.

Finally, it was Yibo’s turn to race, and Xiao Zhan found a seat once more. There Yibo was, with Lele at his side, as the younger man prepared for the final race, listening to a few last words of encouragement from his coach and donning his helmet before riding onto the tracks. 

Xiao Zhan could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he sat forward in his seat, hands held nervously in front of his mouth. He watched Yibo complete his warm-up lap, before coming to a pause at the starting line. The row of red lights lit up, and there was a moment of collective anticipation, before the lights extinguished, and there was the roar of engines as the racers sped forward. Yibo was in a good position, thanks to his performance during the qualifying race yesterday. He steadily gained on the racers in front of him, not making any unnecessary moves. Soon he had caught up to the top contenders for the race, and then he was passing them, settling just behind the fastest racer. Xiao Zhan watched nervously as Yibo zipped around the turns, his body angling dangerously close to the track, then coming up smoothly as he continued his steady pursuit. Two laps left, then one lap. Xiao Zhan was barely sitting on the edge of his seat as he watched Yibo approach the last turn. He was steadily closing the distance between himself and the racer ahead. Suddenly, the racer in front veered off the road as he missed the final curve. Then Yibo was speeding past him, bright green and elegant as he zipped past the finish line.

He had won.

He had won.

Xiao Zhan jumped up, fists pumping into the air, before remembering himself and settling back in his seat. He covered his face with his hands, hiding his smile as his heart swelled with pride. When he looked up at the tracks again, he saw Yibo return to the sidelines on his motorcycle. He watched as Yibo took off his helmet, and was rewarded with the radiance of Yibo’s joy. Yibo was beaming, with his hair sticking up in all directions and his cheeks uplifted with a wide heart-shaped grin on his face, elated at his victory. All around, people were coming to pat him on his back, and Lele was there, holding up an umbrella and looking overjoyed. Xiao Zhan wished he could be there as well, to congratulate him and to tell him how amazing he was. But he could only watch from the stands and wait. Soon, he would get to speak to Yibo. And despite all the reservations that he had had earlier in the morning, despite telling himself that he would not get any further involved with Yibo, at that moment all Xiao Zhan could think of was how excited he was to be with Yibo again soon. 

\--

Yibo felt as though he had a permanent grin plastered on his face, his cheeks aching from smiling so much. But there was really nothing that could adequately describe how happy he felt in this moment, to have won. It was something he had always worked towards, but hadn’t imagined attainable at this time. He had a feeling he could ride on this high for weeks. He saw the pride in his coach’s eyes and the happiness on Lele’s face, and was overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude, to be surrounded by those who supported him. People came up to him from all sides to shake his hand and congratulate him.

He rode the high all the way to the podium, accepting the trophy and beaming into the audience. From here, he allowed himself to look around for Xiao Zhan. Yibo had avoided looking for Xiao Zhan in the bleachers all day, for fear of bringing unwanted attention to him in case the Li family was around. But here on the podium, he was able to spot Xiao Zhan in the crowd instantly. Xiao Zhan was looking up at him with a sunny smile, his eyes crinkled up into half moons and a soft expression on his face. Yibo felt the warm glow inside him expand even further, lifting him into a giddy bliss, as he smiled back at Xiao Zhan. Any misgivings Yibo may have had on the car ride over were easily soothed with that one look from Xiao Zhan, with his dazzling smile and eyes only for Yibo.

It felt even more special that Yibo was sharing this moment with _him_.

Yibo hummed happily all the way back to the changerooms, giving the trophy to Lele to hang onto while he went to take his post-race shower. As he stripped out of his racing suit, he felt the relief of finally getting to remove the heavy piece, along with the sweat-soaked underclothes beneath.

The hot water felt soothing on his skin as he rinsed off the sweat and dirt from the day. He quietly sang to himself, sweeping his hair out of his face and turning off the water to grab his towel. He thought about what he would say to Xiao Zhan when they met up later. Maybe he could convince Xiao Zhan to go for a meal together again. As he wondered about what food might interest Xiao Zhan, Yibo slipped back into his jeans, tucking his shirt edge in on one side, while keeping the gun that he had brought with him concealed underneath his oversized shirt on the other side. He scrolled through his phone, looking for nearby restaurant recommendations, before he realized that he was making Xiao Zhan wait, and slipped the phone back into his jean pocket. He reached for his towel to finish drying his hair.

He was just about to shut his locker door and return to Lele who was waiting outside, before he felt a chill run through him, and a sense of foreboding as he realized that he wasn’t the only one in the changeroom. Whomever he had heard just behind him was being unusually quiet. He realized that the changeroom had appeared oddly empty when he had stepped out from the showers earlier.

Yibo took a deep breath, his hand reaching for where he had just secured his gun, but before he could withdraw it, he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head and the world plunged into darkness.

When next he woke, the world was still dark, blocked out by a blindfold that was tied around his head. He tasted a cloth gag in his mouth, stretching his jaw uncomfortably, and felt the rub of rope tied around his wrists behind him, as well as around his ankles. He felt the smooth vibrations of the moving vehicle he was in, and overheard the sound of men arguing.

“Why did you bring the other one? We should have just killed him. He’ll be a hassle when he wakes up.”

“I didn’t have time to hide a dead body. Did you want to alert people that something was up?”

“The boss had only wanted the husband.”

“Well that man is always beside the husband. There was no way we were getting Wang Yibo past him without him noticing. We’re just lucky that the other large guy wasn’t with him today.”

Listening intently to their conversation, Yibo wondered if Lele was also in the vehicle with him, bound and gagged like he had been. As the men spoke, Yibo quietly tried to determine what the knot situation was around his wrists. He had been bound hastily, and there was some wriggle room. He worked slowly and quietly, trying not to bring attention to the fact that he had woken. If he could only get to the phone in his pocket—

“Lucky? Are you dumb? Did you not see who the other man was that came with the husband?”

“That guy? He’s so tall and skinny.”

“ _That guy_ is Xiao Zhan.”

Yibo heard a sharp gasp. If his mouth wasn’t stuffed with a gag, he might have smirked at the reaction.

“Do you think he saw us?”

“I’m pretty sure he saw me earlier. Whatever, he’s behind us now. That’s why I had asked the boss for reinforcement yesterday, in case we had to deal with him.”

“Is he as dangerous as they say?”

There was silence. Then, “Do you remember He Peng? He turned out like that because of Xiao Zhan.”

Yibo had somewhat loosened the rope around his wrists, and he slowly reached for his cellphone. It was a struggle, and when he had finally pulled the phone out, there was a moment where it almost slipped from his hand. He managed to just barely grab it in time, his long fingers saving it from loudly clattering to the floor. He was still blindfolded though, and could only rely on the familiar feel of the phone in his hand and the vibrational response of it, along with muscle memory, to guide him to what he hoped was the call function. Thankfully he had programmed Xiao Zhan into his speed dial earlier. Praying he had pressed the right buttons somehow, he turned down the volume and placed it back into his pocket, nudging it in so that it was securely tucked inside.

He assessed the situation he was in. So far, he had only heard the voices of two men in the vehicle. Perhaps Lele was in this vehicle as well. There were other people involved too, the reinforcement that was mentioned. He couldn’t tell where they were driving, but based on how little they had stopped thus far, he could only assume that they were on the freeway. It was probably not the best time to try to commandeer a vehicle, possibly putting others on the road in danger. Yibo decided he would wait until they had stopped somewhere before trying anything. It was a risk, as by then the reinforcement might have joined them. 

From somewhere behind him, he heard the sounds of someone struggling. _Lele._

“Oh the big guy’s woken up.”

Yibo heard someone climbing over from the front and felt them walk past him. He stayed as still as possible with his head slumped forward, slowing his breathing and pretending not to have woken up yet. There was a loud thud from behind him, and the sounds of struggling ceased. There were several more blows struck after.

“Good thing I used extra rope on this one. He’s got quite the muscle on him.”

It took all of Yibo’s willpower not to jump up and tackle the other man down for hurting Lele. But he knew that he wouldn’t get very far in his attack while still blindfolded and tied up.

Suddenly he felt a finger being pushed against the side of his head, and his heart leapt into his throat as he allowed his head to swing limply from the force.

“This one’s still out cold. Such a pretty little thing.”

There was something deeply disturbing and sickening in the tone of the man’s voice, and Yibo had to force himself not to shrink away in disgust. His fingers itched to strike the man, to put him in his place, but Yibo could only sit there bonelessly. He focused on keeping his breathing even, and felt cold sweat forming under his armpits, before finally he heard the man climb back to the front of the vehicle, and Yibo could breathe more easily again.

He wondered how far they were going, and listened intently to the traffic sounds around him, hoping for some clue as to where they were headed. He had no idea how long he had been out for though, and the generic sounds of passing cars yielded no clues. He wondered if he had been able to successfully dial through to Xiao Zhan, and how Xiao Zhan might be reacting. Part of him hoped that Xiao Zhan would find him, but another part of him felt guilty, for dragging Xiao Zhan into whatever this mess was. He recalled bitterly how excited he had been to be with Xiao Zhan again after only half a day apart, how much he had wanted to see Xiao Zhan after his victory. Was he still at the racetracks, waiting for Yibo? Or was he on the other end of the phone, now searching for Yibo?

After an unknown amount of time, Yibo felt the car decelerating as it changed lanes, and he could only presume that they were exiting the freeway. Wherever they drove now was remarkably quiet for them to still be in the city. After a number of turns where Yibo let his body sway haphazardly, he felt them slow down, before finally pulling into a stop, accompanied by the sound of the engine being turned off. 

His body tensed as he waited for the men in front to get off the vehicle. There was the issue of how he would get Lele, still unconscious, out of this situation. When he heard the doors being opened and shut in front, he quickly slipped out of the ropes he had loosened around his wrist, throwing off his blindfold and the mouth gag, before hastily trying to unfasten the rope around his ankles. The knot was too complicated though, and too soon he heard the sound of the door beside him being slid open. He looked up to see the surprised expression on the man in front of him, and instinctively slammed a fist into the man’s face, feeling his nose give way underneath.

“You little fucker!” The man staggered back, clutching his bleeding nose, which gave Yibo enough time to loosen the knot around his ankles.

Haochen had come around now to see what the fuss was about, and upon seeing the blood streaming down his partner’s face, and Yibo in the midst of his attempted escape, his face screwed up in anger and he promptly grabbed Yibo by the collar, dragging him out of the car. Yibo wouldn’t let himself be pulled out without a fight. He landed a sharp punch into the man’s gut, causing Haochen to double over and loosen his grip enough to allow Yibo to gain the upper hand, as Yibo pulled Haochen into a chokehold with his gun pointed at the man’s head.

“Let Lele go,” Yibo snarled, pushing the gun further into Haochen’s temple.

Haochen sputtered under the firm grip Yibo had on him, but still managed to spit disdainfully on the ground. “You’re outnumbered. Look around you.”

Yibo froze as he felt the cold muzzle of a gun rest on the back of his head. All around, a group of suited men had gathered, each carrying some form of a weapon, glaring at Yibo.

“What are you going to do after you shoot me? Do you think you’ll be able to get away even after you’ve shot me?”

Yibo thought through his options, but recognized the truth in Haochen’s words. Slowly, the frustration of defeat sunk in.

“Drop the gun on Haochen and we’ll spare your pretty head,” came a voice from behind him, the man who had his gun pointed at Yibo.

Reluctantly, Yibo loosened his grip, bringing his arms up in a sign of surrender. Before Yibo could make any further moves, he felt the air being knocked out of him as he was pinned to the ground, hearing several of the men rush over, with one on top of Yibo, twisting his arms painfully behind him, while another knocked the gun out of his grip. He bit into his lip at the pain and resentment for being so easily defeated, not wanting to give the men the satisfaction of crying out.

“Feisty one here. Where did he get the gun from?”

“No idea, good thing you all came when you did.”

“I can’t believe you almost got defeated by this pretty boy.”

“Who knew he knew how to punch?”

“Clearly, your nose is suffering from it.”

There was collective snickering.

“Tie him up good this time. There’ll be no escaping. Make sure the other one’s securely tied as well.”

“We should check their pockets too, just to make sure they’re not hiding anything else.”

Yibo struggled underneath the restraint as he felt hands grope all over him, straying even where there weren’t any pockets, and mentally groaned as one hand found the phone in his pocket.

“This little shithead—he’s been calling someone this whole time!”

“Fuck, Haochen, why couldn’t you be more careful?”

“Piss off, I don’t see you trying to sneak out of there without Xiao Zhan noticing or catching up to us!”

Yibo listened to the conversation and felt amusement despite the situation. He was still pinned on the ground, unbound, while the men fought amongst themselves. Xiao Zhan would have never allowed such inefficiency.

“Who’s he calling?”

“It says it’s his brother—I don’t know who his brother is, but I don’t know how helpful he’ll be here.”

Yibo watched his phone being smashed on the ground in front of him.

“What if they call the cops?”

“You idiot, hand that over. You can’t destroy a phone these days just by smashing it on the ground, you doofus. Minghao, take it somewhere far away from here. If they try to track down his location through his phone, we can distract them for a bit. I’ll speak to the boss. You and you, keep watch outside.”

Yibo tried to wrestle out of the grip on him, but he was helpless as he felt new rope being wrapped around his wrists and ankles, this time tighter than they had been bound before. The gag was forcibly stuffed back into his mouth, and he felt someone pull on his hair as they yanked him up onto his feet. His eyes quickly scanned his surroundings. They must have taken him to the city outskirts, in a grassy lot overrun by weeds, with a small canal flowing beside where they stood. He was being directed towards an old warehouse that looked like it had been abandoned, its walls crawling with vines. With his ankles bound together, he could barely stumble over the uneven terrain, and was dragged along by two strong hands on either side of him. He hazarded a quick look back, and was relieved to see that Lele had been brought along, needing several people to bring him over. Altogether there was a group of about ten men. He and Lele may have been able to take on half that number, but the odds were not in their favour. He took heart in the fact that they had not killed him yet, which meant that they wanted him alive. He was not their end goal. He would withstand whatever they threw at him in the meantime.

Once inside the warehouse, he was brought over to a weighted chair and tied down to it. Lele was tied to another weighted chair further away. Haochen and his men grabbed a few more chairs and settled down around Yibo.

One of the men snapped a photo of Yibo. Yibo gave the dirtiest look he could muster at the camera.

“Aw come on now, someone pretty like you should smile more. This photo’s going to your husband, don’t you want to send a more flattering photo to him?”

If Yibo could, he would have spat in the man’s face. Unfortunately, he had the gag in his mouth and could do no such thing. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Haochen reassured, misinterpreting Yibo’s look of displeasure. “We’ll let you go…as long as your husband agrees to our conditions.” He paused. “I hope for your sake he agrees sooner rather than later. Before we have to resort to other methods.”

Yibo could do nothing but glare. That was something he was good at.

It just didn’t have the same effect when he was bound and gagged. Haochen chuckled. “We’ll see what your husband’s response is.”

Yibo glanced angrily around, taking note of the size of the space, and what weapons each man carried. None of the men were paying particularly close attention to him, already bored of their assignment.

Yibo couldn’t depend on Du Huan to save him, and Xiao Zhan—Yibo’s chest panged at the thought of Xiao Zhan. Yibo decided he would try to get out of this if he could. He didn’t want Xiao Zhan putting his life in danger, and if there was anything Yibo could do about it, he would very well try. While Haochen was distracted on his phone, Yibo took the time to slowly work his way out of the knots around his wrist again. They had bound it more tightly this time around, but it was still not impossible, and Yibo was patient, keeping his movements subtle to avoid drawing attention to what he was doing. 

Every now and then, he looked worriedly over at Lele, who had several bruises forming around his face. Slowly, Lele began to stir, and upon realizing that he was bound to a chair, he started struggling against his restraints, still blindfolded and unable to see what was going on. The chair budged under his efforts, but not even Lele could overcome the weight of it while tied so helplessly. He groaned in frustration and Yibo longed to be able to tell Lele not to worry, that he was here with him, and that they would figure their way out of this.

Haochen laughed, and Lele froze at the sound of the other man.

Haochen walked over and pulled off the blindfold, leaving Lele blinking in the dim light of the warehouse. Then Lele spotted Yibo and the concern was clear in his eyes as he made panicked stifled sounds into the gag.

Yibo shook his head slightly, looking Lele in the eye. _Don’t worry. I’m okay._

Lele understood, but the look of concern was still there. 

“You can be part of the audience,” Haochen smirked. “It looks like Du Huan still hasn’t responded about his precious husband. Guess that means we’ll have to make the threat a bit clearer to him.”

Without warning, he struck a blow to Yibo’s face, leaving a bloody gash where his ring had landed. Yibo gasped, the sting of it hot and burning on his cheek. He glared stonily back at Haochen, refusing to show any sign of pain.

“Now now, don’t look at me that way. It’s your husband’s fault for not responding sooner. If he had just agreed to hand over the ports like we’ve requested, then we’d let you go.” Haochen directed some of the men to Yibo, who promptly began to pummel him. “Make sure he stays alive, we need him alive,” Haochen ordered.

Yibo wouldn’t let the men get him that easily though, and kneed one man sharply in the groin, relying on his core strength to maneuver his legs. That got the man to beat him more insistently and by the end of it, his whole body was stinging, a sharp metallic tang in his mouth, a trickle of either blood or sweat making its way down the side of his face. It didn’t stop him from staring coldly at Haochen, who was recording everything. Lele was making sounds of protest, but was wholly ignored.

There was a look of delight on Haochen’s face. “You’ve got some fight in you. Good. That will make this more interesting.” He stopped the recording, and promptly ignored Yibo as he focused on sending off the video, by whatever means they had chosen to communicate with Du Huan.

Yibo let his body slump into the chair, a sharp focal area of pain in his chest punctuating each breath he took. He had probably broken a rib, but he still had his wits about him. He collected his thoughts, trying to focus his mind despite the pain.

He glanced at the men around him. He doubted they would all stay here the entire time, just to watch over two people. Sure enough, after some time had passed, a few of them got up to stretch their legs and go for a walk outside, feeling confident that no one had found out their location yet, and that evidently there was no one coming to rescue Yibo. Taking advantage of this time when there were fewer people around, Yibo began to work on the rope that was tied around his body to the chair. In the chaos of the fight earlier, Yibo had managed to swipe one of the men’s pocketknives, slipping it into his sleeve to hide. Now, he let it slide into his hand, the rope around his wrists already loosened, and slowly, quietly, cut away at the ropes behind him. He kept watch over Haochen out of the corner of his eye, but the man was now speaking on the phone to someone, fully dismissing Yibo as any kind of threat. It was a mistake.

“Trust me, Du Huan’s weakness is his husband—I don’t know why we haven’t heard anything from him yet,” Haochen muttered into his phone, impatience seeping into his voice. “Look, I’m sure this plan will work, just give me some more time—yes, I’m sure I have everything under control. I’ll send another video.” He glanced at Yibo now, who froze. It was momentary, and Haochen looked away again, to continue his phone conversation, “The plan will work. I’m sure—”

He paused mid-sentence, a realization hitting him. He turned back to Yibo, who by now had cut through the remaining ropes behind him, the ropes falling slack around him.

“You—” Haochen sneered. “I’ll call you back,” he barked into his phone, before hanging up and pouncing on Yibo. “What are the rest of you lot doing?” He yelled at the men around, arousing them from their mid-day laziness. “How come none of you are watching him?!”

Yibo hurriedly sliced through the ropes on his ankles and leapt out of Haochen’s reach, getting rid of his mouth gag once and for all, while running towards Lele to free him from his ties. But they had bound the rope many times around Lele, and Yibo was only able to free Lele’s hands before he had to turn around to defend himself from the advancing men. He was able to fend off the first man that came at him, aiming a few precise jabs to crucial areas, leaving the man reeling from his wounds. But Yibo was only one, and he was outnumbered. His chest was still hurting from the injuries earlier and he was soon heaving for breath, steadily being pushed back against a wall by the men. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to keep this up. The adrenaline that fueled him was peaking, and the soreness catching up throughout his body was a reminder that he was reaching his limits. He failed to fend off one blow and lurched backwards, clutching at the wound.

He saw one man reach for his gun, and was only faintly relieved to hear Haochen hiss, “He needs to stay alive.”

“That doesn’t mean he needs all his limbs, right?”

Yibo tried to run away, but he was cornered, with nowhere to go. He wished he had his gun still, and tried to rack his brains for a way out, looking desperately around.

Then, suddenly, there was the sound of multiple gunshots outside. A few frenzied yells were heard, which abruptly ceased after a few more shots were fired.

Distracted, Haochen and the other men attacking Yibo turned to look back.

Standing in the entrance, with sunlight streaming into the dim warehouse to illuminate him from behind, was the tall figure of Xiao Zhan.

And he was furious.

\--

It had been a long time since Xiao Zhan had felt this happy, let alone this happy on someone else’s behalf. But when he had looked up admiringly to see an exuberant Yibo on the podium, he couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face, joy flowing through him like a warm tide when he made eye contact with Yibo. None of Xiao Zhan’s achievements with the mafia had left him feeling this proud. Yibo had done it, all on his own, and Xiao Zhan wanted to shower him with compliments, and wrap him up in praise, so that Yibo would keep smiling like this.

Xiao Zhan went to wait for Yibo by the bleachers, a strange nervous energy running through him. When Xiao Zhan saw Yibo, he would—what was he going to do? What could he do, within the limits of his role as the mafia’s right-hand man? He pushed the thought away, trying not to think too much into what he was feeling as he waited.

The time passed as he waited. The crowds were thinning, and there was still no sign of Yibo. Xiao Zhan grew more anxious, thoughts of his sighting of Haochen running through his mind. He pulled out his phone, and called Lele. There was no answer. His worry heightened, and he chewed his lip as he then dialed Yibo.

The phone rang. But no one picked up.

He called again, but still there was no response.

He took a few breaths, trying to ease his mind, knowing that he always had better judgment when he approached a situation calmly. He usually had no issues with settling his mind to think, even at the worst of times.

Still, he couldn’t help the trepidation that he felt as he hurriedly opened his phone to the location app, looking for Yibo on the map.

Yibo was no longer located at the motorcycle circuit.

 _Shit_.

Xiao Zhan jumped up and nearly ran to the car, his long strides bringing him to the vehicle in next to no time. He studied the direction that Yibo was headed, and it was at that time that the phone buzzed, and Yibo’s name popped onto his screen with an incoming call, and Xiao Zhan nearly dropped his phone in his haste to pick up the call.

“Yibo? Yibo, is that you? Yibo, where are you?” His heart was pounding in his chest, and there was a note of desperation in his voice that he wasn’t able to conceal.

There was no response.

“Yibo?”

He listened, and made out the sounds of slightly distant voices. He turned up the volume on his phone and strained to hear what was being said, only making out parts of the conversation. As he listened, he started to piece together what was happening. He started the car, and drove towards the dot indicating Yibo’s location on the map. He pulled onto the freeway and weaved his way around the other vehicles, speeding as fast as traffic would allow, throwing glances over at the map on his phone to ensure he was headed in the right direction, all while listening to the muffled voices coming from Yibo’s call.

The fact that Yibo was making this call must mean that he was okay. Xiao Zhan desperately hoped this was the case.

He watched as the Yibo dot diverted from the freeway. It was still some distance away from where Xiao Zhan was. Xiao Zhan zoomed in on the map to study where they had exited, before stepping down further on the gas pedal, not catching up nearly as quickly as he would have liked.

Yibo’s dot had stopped moving now, and it looked like he was on some unmarked part of the map. In between lane changes, Xiao Zhan studied the location where Yibo had stopped. It was not an area that he was familiar with.

The phone call had gone silent for a few moments, and Xiao Zhan glanced nervously at his phone again, confirming that the call was still connected. Then he heard cursing, followed by Yibo’s voice.

_“Let Lele go.”_

Xiao Zhan exhaled, the sound of Yibo’s voice offering temporary reassurance. He listened to the subsequent exchange, soon becoming increasingly worried again, until suddenly the call was disconnected.

He felt his heart drop, his imagination running wild with what might have happened to Yibo. He honked impatiently at the cars in front of him. Why was the traffic so bad? He glanced back at the map, and noticed that Yibo’s dot had started moving again. Yibo was now traveling back onto the freeway, moving further away. Xiao Zhan’s eyes switched nervously between the map and the road. He watched as the dot continued down the freeway, before eventually coming to a stop once more.

Xiao Zhan zoomed in on the map to study the new location. Did this mean that Yibo had been moved? But if they had already discovered the phone, what were the chances that this was just a diversion and that Yibo was still at the first location? The initial stop was many exits sooner than where Yibo’s dot now rested, and the two locations were quite far from one another. If Xiao Zhan chose the wrong destination, it would be wasting precious time. Time where Yibo might be—

Xiao Zhan shuddered to think what they could be doing to Yibo, being all too familiar with how hostages might be treated.

A few moments passed before Xiao Zhan received another call, this time from Du Huan. Du Huan was fuming, asking Xiao Zhan why he had been sent a photo of Yibo, bound and gagged.

Hearing this, Xiao Zhan’s stomach turned, his anxiety overwhelming any possible fear of retribution for letting Yibo get kidnapped. He relayed what he had heard from Yibo’s phone call, as well as the approximate location that he was headed. Du Huan coldly informed that he would send back up before hanging up.

It seemed like an endless stretch of road that passed, and too many slow-moving cars in the way, before Xiao Zhan finally reached the first exit. He worried his lips, tasting blood on his tongue. He imagined Yibo, scared and waiting. The knot in his stomach twisted further at the thought. He took the exit, deciding to trust his intuition.

The map didn’t even capture all the roads in this area, and Xiao Zhan found himself driving in circles, steadily becoming more and more frantic. It took many wrong turns, and several people stopped along the road to ask for directions, before finally he came upon an open field with an old warehouse. Instinctively, he knew this had to be the place. When he spotted the suited men that were casually standing guard outside, his suspicions were confirmed.

He parked just out of view from where the men stood. He took a moment to ensure his guns were fully loaded, with a few magazines prepped and ready. He double checked that his knives were properly secured. He sent off a quick text to Du Huan with his exact location. Recognizing the restless energy that he felt, he took a deep breath, then exhaled. He did this a few times, before his mind felt somewhat more stable, as he entered the familiar cold unfeeling state before a kill. He was ready.

He caught the men outside off guard, and it only took a few shots before they were all properly silenced, not even getting a chance to fight back.

He kicked open the door to the warehouse, allowing light to flood inside, throwing his long shadow onto the ground before him. And there, in the corner, was Yibo.

He was still alive.

He was alive, but badly bruised, with a gash in his cheek, and a trickle of blood dried along the side of his face. Xiao Zhan felt his fury burn, outraged that someone had hurt Yibo.

Taking advantage of the others’ surprise, Xiao Zhan strode in, carrying a gun in each hand, and fired. His aim was precise, each shot lethal. As the surprise wore off, the men started to rush towards him. Having exhausted the rounds in one of the guns, he discarded it, to draw one of his knives and quickly stab the approaching man in the chest. Blood pooled around the hilt, spewing out as he withdrew his knife, to slice through the next man that came upon him. Crimson red splattered across his white shirt, painting it like a bloody Pollock canvas, but he paid no mind as he made his way towards Yibo. 

Yibo had also taken advantage of the others’ shock and had somehow disarmed a man, and was now holding a gun in his hand. Xiao Zhan registered mild surprise as Yibo fired, his aim true, taking down the man directly in front of him.

There was now only Haochen left standing.

“Xiao Zhan, wait—” Haochen pleaded, panic in his eyes as Xiao Zhan stormed towards him.

But Xiao Zhan had run out of patience. With only a few quick steps, Xiao Zhan had his arm around Haochen, with his knife against Haochen’s neck.

“Please, spare me, I—”

Xiao Zhan did not let Haochen finish. He dug his knife in and drew a deep slash across the man’s neck, blood spurting out as he sliced through the major arteries. 

He tossed Haochen aside, letting him bleed out. He had eyes only for one.

He turned to face Yibo, looking to reassure himself that Yibo was in one piece. Yibo was staring back at him, mouth open and panting, his light blue shirt streaked with blood and dirt. He was in rough shape, but he was alive and gazing back at Xiao Zhan, with a spot of sunlight highlighting the warm brown of his eyes. And then, for the first time since many years ago, perhaps not since the first time he had killed, Xiao Zhan felt his legs give way underneath him and he dropped down to his knees, weakened with relief.

“You’re okay,” he choked.

It was in that moment that he knew, he could no longer return to the darkness of living in a world without Yibo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hurts me to injure fic Yibo but don't worry he'll fully recover from his broken rib in about a month.
> 
> The next update will take a bit longer because of real life things coming up, but I'll try to work on this when I can. I've already thought of the ending for this and I want to write it for this pair, plus all the other things I have in mind for them, so more to come in time! Thank you to all the kind commenters and for following along.


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